Idyll: A Sex Scene free porn video

(Author's note: This piece is just what the title says it is: adescription of two people having sex with some mild BDSM as told from theman's point of view: his thoughts and impressions. There's no plot, nomoral, and no pretense at redeeming artistic value, and if you're lookingfor any of those, I suggest you go elsewhere. Sometimes you just want toknock off a nice, psychological piece of ass.)

From the dark van in the dark alley I can just see her leaving her buildingdown at the end of the block, her hair hidden by a scarf, the belt of her raincoattied tight across her waist. It has to be her. I know her address, and I'veseen a couple of pictures of her. She's walking fast but being careful to keepher shoes out of the slush, carrying herself proud and upright, even thoughI know her heart must be high in her chest if she's followed my instructionsand dressed the way I told her to under that coat.

I can see the gleam of her high heels from here as she crosses under thestreetlight. A sudden gust of cold wind meets her at the corner and lifts thebottom of her coat, and I see nothing but stocking- clad leg up to mid thighwhere the darkness of her tight skirt conceals the rest. She reaches quicklyfor the flapping coat and pushes it down, looking nervously up and down theempty street. I wonder if she's as nervous and excited as I am. Probably not.She thinks she's just going to meet me in a bar. She doesn't know what I haveplanned for her.

Just keep walking, Ashley. Come to me, baby. Come to me…

The van is dark. The heat's on and it's very warm in here and I've takenmy coat off. I've got brand new black leather gloves on my hands; black pants,black sweater, and my black ski mask is pushed up on my head. I'm still notsure whether I should cover my face or not. After all, I want her to know it'sme. I don't want her to be really scared, just scared enough. She's expectingto see me outside the bar. I'm just going to meet her a little early is all.

I crack the window and now I can hear the sound of the wind in the bare treesand her heels on the wet sidewalk. A nasty night, but that's okay. We're notgoing to be out in it long. Saint Valentine's Day, but no pink cherubs andCupid's arrows for us. This is the day to give passion its due and to unmaskall your desires. My tastes run more to the extremes of love, and unless I'mtotally mistaken, so do Ashley's.

We know each other, but only from e-mailings, from talking on-line. We knoweach other in that strange cyber way, where you know all about a person's deepest,most secret sexual desires, even though you've never laid eyes on them; neverheard the sound of their voice. Tonight that's all supposed to change. Tonightshe was coming out to meet me at a bar not far from her apartment for the firsttime. Only I had different ideas.

I know what she likes. I know what she fantasizes about. She thinks she'sgoing to meet me in a nice cozy bar where we can get to know each other, butI have different ideas. I want to make one of her fantasies come true, andI'm just about to do that.

"Hi Ashley," I say, stepping in front of her. "Going somewhere?"

I startle her and she recoils in sudden fright.

"It's me, love. Rob. I thought I'd meet you a little early, out here on thestreet. Hope I didn't startle you."

"Rob? You're Rob?" she asks. She clutches her raincoat close and her eyessearch my face, but before she can say anything else I take her arm. I spinher around, back to me and pull her towards the van.

"Wait! What are you…?"

I put my gloved hand over her mouth. "Shhh! Don't say a word! Just get inthe van. Trust me, baby. You won't get hurt. Promise"

I pull her back into the alley and she staggers against me, confused, walkingbackwards, not sure whether she should struggle or not. I know I'm smearingher perfect lipstick but already the thrill of using force on her has me excited,and she doesn't know whether she should resist or do as I say. I make sureshe doesn't have time to think about it.

The side door of the van is open. I drag her through the cloud of idlingexhaust fumes and half throw, half lift her inside and climb in with her. Islide the door closed behind me, so hard that it makes the van rock.

"What are you doing?" she asks in confusion. "I thought you were going tomeet me…"

She doesn't know what's happening. I grab a strip of tape off the driver'sseat and quickly bind her wrists, wrapping the tape right over the sleevesof her raincoat. I turn her around roughly and tie a scarf against her mouthand she fights me, twisting away, but I persist and when she opens her mouthto yell something else I get the scarf between her lips and tie it snug. Ipull her down to the mattress in the back.

She's still struggling and twisting around, but when I get the blindfoldon her she calms down. I think she finally understands.

"This is your fantasy, remember?" I ask her. "All the times we talked aboutthis? How hot you got thinking about it? Well now I want to make it real, Ashley.You understand?"

She's lying there on the mattress, her knees to the side. She mumbles somethinginto the scarf, then stops, thinking about it. Then she nods her head.

"I've got to redo your hands. I strongly suggest you don't try anything.I'm a desperate man, and you've got my blood up." I'm smiling as I say this,but it's true. I'm more excited than I thought I'd be.

She doesn't move as I take the tape off the sleeves of her coat. I pull herinto a sitting position and she lets me buckle a brand new leather cuff aroundeach wrist. I twist her around and clip her wrists together behind her backwith a big, chrome clip, then lean her back against the wall of the van. Ican't read her face, not with the blindfold and the gag on, but she's stoppedstruggling.

Her coat's come open in the little fracas. The tight white blouse she's wearinghas popped the top buttons and the tops of her breasts are visible and theline of her bra that contains them. There's a dark inviting cleavage betweenher tits, soft with shadow.

I look at her face, her red lips spread by the cruel gag, her eyes shroudedby the leather mask. Her chest is rising and falling with her steady breathing,the weight of her breasts threatening to burst the last buttons of her too-tightblouse. She's into it now. She understands the game we're playing. She's alreadydressed for the part, just as she'd told me she'd dress for our meeting, verysexy, everything designed to incite: what she called her 'play clothes'. Herlegs are drawn up under her and the tops of her dark stockings just peek frombeneath the hem of her black skirt. I can see the cruel bite of her gartersin the top band of the stockings against her naked thighs. I may be wrong butthat might just be a tremble of excitement in her lower lip.

"Do you have any idea how gorgeous you look like this?" I ask her, leaningover her so I can smell her perfume and excitement over the stuffy and humidcar heat. "All helpless, mine to do with whatever I wish?"

I had all sorts of words prepared, nasty things about cocks and pussies,but seeing her leaning against the side of the van tied up like that, I forgetall that stuff. I reach my hand out and touch her breast with the back of myknuckles, lifting it up and feeling the warmth and give of her flesh. Eventhrough the glove I can feel her femininity, the aching loveliness of her body.

"You know I love you, baby," I say, "But tonight I don't want to think aboutlove. Just lust. Just the way I want you, the way you make me hurt with needfor you. Tonight I want to use you for my own selfish pleasure, Ashley. I wantto treat you like the slut of my dreams, my own sexual toy. Now if you don'twant to do this, tell me now. Tell me now and we'll stop. Just say 'no' threetimes. Make any noise three times and I'll stop, you understand?"

She doesn't move. I'm still breathing hard from our struggle and from tyingher up, but Ashley doesn't move, doesn't make a sound.

I smile as I realize what that means.

"That's my baby!" I say, feeling a thrill from her helpless beauty, her surrender,her complicity in my fantasy. She wants it too. I pull her to me with one armaround her, she falls back against me, her hands tied behind her, and I can'tresist running my hand over her body, my fingers flowing over her breasts,tracing down her stomach to the black skirt stretched tight across her thighs.I bury my face in her neck, inhaling the fragrance of her hair, feeling herpulse in the softness of her throat, and I drag my fingers claw-like up herleg, pulling at the skirt, raising the hem slowly over her thighs.

I lower my face and suck on the exposed skin of her breast, smelling herperfume. I suck it, lick it, and all the time I'm working to gather her skirtup. She must be able to feel how hot I am, because she moans and twists againstme, and I realize that she's trying to resist me. That's good. Let her resist.It makes it more exciting.

I can't do anything with these fucking gloves on. I pull the glove off withmy teeth, and now when I go back to her thighs I can feel the tight slicknessof her stocking, and then the soft skin where it bulges slightly out abovethem. I can already feel her nakedness and heat. She groans and bucks, clampingher legs together, but I manage to skin the short black skirt up above herhips, exposing her panties, sapphire blue.

"God, look at you!" I whisper in her ear as we fight together. "You're skirt'sup around your waist, your panties are showing. Anyone who walks by the vanwill see what a hot slut you are; will see how much you love being treatedlike this. Is that what you want? You want me to call some people over to seethe hot little slut I just picked up off the street?"

She groans loudly and heaves her body up from the mattress, trying to escapemy words and my hand rubbing the soft skin at the top of her legs, but I hangon to her, holding her tight as she bucks and writhes, groaning in protestbehind the gag. I work my hand between her legs and she growls in frustrationand shame because she can't escape. I touch her between her legs where thethin crotch of her panties protects her soft and humid sex. She's wet and shemust know it, and she must know I can feel it too.

"Nice," I whisper against her throat as I screw my finger gently around againsther soft and slippery panties, pushing the fabric up against her. "You're alreadyturned on, aren't you? You like this rough stuff, just like I thought. Nowopen 'em up, baby. Open your legs for me. No use trying to pretend anymore.We both know you want it. I knew it as soon as I saw how you were dressed underneathyour coat. Is that how a decent girl leaves the house? Dressed like a commonhooker, a streetwalker?"

I love feeling her struggle, feeling her trying to resist. She's going tomake me work for it, but that's okay. I like using my strength against her.I like feeling her writhe and squirm as I crush her to me, feeling the hardpebbles of her nipples pressing against me even through my sweater. Her bra'stoo tight anyhow, and it's very sheer, can barely contain the weight of herbreasts and the tops of her tits are trying to spill out of it. I grab herblouse and just pull, ripping the buttons off and yanking it open. Her titsare stuffed into that bra, and they roll softly beneath my hand and mouth asI sink my face down into the intoxicating warmth and sweetness and suck themthrough her sheer fabric.

My assault on her tits startles her and she forgets momentarily and partsher knees. I grab her leg behind her thigh and pull it up, spreading her legslewdly and she wails beneath the gag at her sudden vulnerability.

"Should we just sit here and wait for someone to come by?" I tease, holdingher legs apart and caressing her through her damp panties. "Should I turn onthe dome light so they can see you better, you gorgeous little piece of ass?"

She's worn out now from struggling. Her blouse is open, her tits are heavingbehind that bra, her skirt is all bunched up around her waist, and her raincoatis a mess, half off, half on. I take another piece of rope and tie it betweenher wrists, bring it down behind her and pass it through her legs then up infront and tie it around her neck. I draw it tight so that it's snug againstthe crease of her sex.

"There," I said, "That's so you can get yourself off while you struggle.Now you can struggle all you want. Get yourself good and ready, baby. We'vegot a full night ahead of us."

I pull her coat closed and take another piece of rope. I pass it around herlegs and tie her knees together, then do the same to her ankles. I lay herdown on the mattress on her back, her tits standing up, heaving with her eagerbreathing, and even in the dimness of the dark alley I can see her nipplessaluting and the pulse beating in the base of her throat. My own baby, capturedand vulnerable at last, just like in my dreams.

I exit the side door of the van and take a look down the alley. A gust ofrain sweeps down the street and catches me, drums on the roof of the van. There'sno one around; it's too nasty out. I straighten my clothes, then climb intothe driver's seat. I put the van into gear and pull out of the rain-slick street.

The motel's only about a mile away, but I drive through alleys; I go aroundthe block a couple of times. The windows of the van are all steamed up becauseof the humidity inside, but I'm worried that a cop might stop me and pull meover, so I drive with extra care. Even so I want to take my time and let herto enjoy the fear for a while. I can look behind me and see her lying on themattress, bands of light sweeping over her bound body as we pass under thestreetlights. She lies still at first, but then she starts to writhe a little,and at the next light when I stop for a good look I realize that she's discoveredthat by arching her back and moving her hands she can work herself off againstthe rope between her legs. I can hear soft little whimpers and sighs emergingfrom between her gagged lips. By the time we reach our destination, she's pantingwith excitement.

I've already checked into the motel, so I just pull the van up near the back,away from the light.

"I strongly suggest that you don't do anything foolish," I say to her asI untie her knees and ankles. I unclip her hands, bring them around in frontof her and clip them together again. I take off her gag and blindfold.

I wait for her to say something, to make some joke or wisecrack, but she'stoo into it now, excited by the part she's playing. Her eyes are smoldering,and when I try to look into them she avoids me, not wanting me to see what'sthere or risk ruining the mood of the game.

"Come here," I say as I close her coat snugly over her torn blouse and tiethe belt in place.

I help her from the van and hand her a suitcase. "Hold this as you walk andno one will see the cuffs."

I get another suitcase from the back of the van and then take her arm, holdingher just a little too tight and pulling her along to make her keep up withme, her heels clattering on the tarmac. She staggers a little as she walksbut I hold her up, guide her up the stairs and pull her up to the second levelwhere the room is.

There's someone below, coming out from his room to get something from hiscar. He walks under the overhang, out of the rain, until he gets to a car,then he happens to look up at us and Ashley quickly turns her head away sohe won't see her face. I suppose she doesn't want any witnesses to her abduction,and that makes me smile. The man goes back to his task, dipping into the trunkof his car, perhaps getting something for a little party of his own in hisroom below.

"This is where we're going, love," I say as I slide the keycard into thelock. "This is where you're going to get what's coming to you. Take a goodlook at the world around you, Ashley, because it's not going to look the samewhen you get out of here. It's time we both learned just who you are underneaththat coat."

I open the door and push her inside. I'd already set things up: I'd turnedthe heat way up so she won't get cold when she's naked, closed the drapes andturned the lights down low. The ropes are already fastened to the bed, andmore sits on the desk chair, already cut to length. The whips and nipple clampsare laid out neatly on a folded towel on the dresser. She sees them and hereyes go wide, but she says nothing.

I take the suitcase from her; unclip her wrists and strip off her raincoat.

"Rob, wait…" she says, her eyes still on the whips. She laughs nervously,but the trembling in her voice is from excitement. "Wait a minute…"

But I've already pushed her up against the wall and taken her wrists in myhands, pressing my body against hers, my lips at her throat.

"What?" I demand, running my mouth along the smooth skin of her neck. "What?You want me to wait for what?"

"I just… It's just… Oh God! God!" She forgets what she's goingto say when my lips find the base of her throat. I press my cock against her,letting her feel how hard she's made me.

"Tell me," I say as I press against her and kiss her throat, her face. "Tellme what you want! This is it, isn't it? Isn't this your fantasy? What you toldme about?"

I know what's wrong and I know why she wants me to wait. She's embarrassedabout how excited she is and it makes her very nervous. If we were back ather place now and making out on her couch I'll bet she would stop things, slowthem down with an awkward little joke, or find some reason to leave the roomfor a minute so she could collect herself. But I don't want any little jokesnow and I don't want her to collect herself. I want to push her. I want tosee how hot she can get. I want her to forget making sweet and consideratelove. I want her to be a whore, a vixen, a slut. I want her to scream and bite.I want her to want me as much as I want her, and I want her to admit it.

I take her face in my hands and I rape her mouth with my tongue. She standsthere stunned, her hands still pressed up against the wall where I'd left them,as if she's the victim of a hold-up and she's showing me she's unarmed. Butshe's armed. Her body is her weapon and she makes me dizzy with desire. AsI kiss her I put my thumb into her mouth and peel down her lower lip so I cankiss and suck the soft inside, laying her whole mouth open to me. I grind mycock against her as I kiss her so she can feel exactly what she's doing tome, how she makes me feel even when she does nothing at all.

"Oh my! Oh, Rob…" she remonstrates, breathless with excitement, afraidof what she's feeling. I'm like an animal on her now. She knows there's nostopping me, and she's worried that she's going to lose control as well. Herown body, beautiful and innocent, is like fuel to the carnal fire that consumesme, and she doesn't know how to stop me, or even if she wants to. One partof her needs to pull back and regain control of herself, and the other partwants to let go, so for now she's like an observer to what I'm doing to her,an innocent bystander, refusing to admit that she wants this too, still tryingto get by without committing

But I won't have that.

I pull her away from the wall and lead her to the center of the room. "Standthere," I tell her. "Stand right there and don't move a muscle."

I gently pull the torn blouse from her shoulders and remove it, leaving herstanding in the middle of the floor in her skirt and bra and heels. The skirtis short and tight: a teaser's skirt, and her wicked high heels make her assthrust up and out in lewd invitation. Seeing this sweet girl dressed like atart excites me terribly. She looks cheap, like she's selling herself. Betterthan that even: she looks like she's just daring me to take it from her, andnow she's finding out that I will

Despite my warning to stay still she raises her hands and clasps them togetherover her breasts as if cold. She's not cold. She's instinctively trying tohide from me. But she looks so sweet and vulnerable like that I don't say anythingabout her disobeying me. She's the slut discovered: the little girl who wascaught dressing up in big girls' clothes and who now has to pay, and even hernervousness and uncertainty is delicious. Just looking at her makes me hot,makes me want to do all sorts of unspeakable things to her.

I walk behind her and strip off my sweater. I kick off my shoes and pullmy socks off, then drop my pants and skin down my shorts. I make noise as Iundress so she knows exactly what I'm doing, because I want her to know thatI'm getting naked. I want her to think about being locked in this strange roomwith a naked wild man who wants her, all of her, just like in her fantasy.

I go up behind her and stand close. Closer. So close that just my hard cockmakes contact with the tight skirt covering her ass, so she can feel that bighard spear all swollen for her. I run my fingers like gossamer down the nakedsmoothness of her back and watch the tide of goose bumps spread over her skin.

"Do you feel how hard I am for you, Ashley?" I ask. "That's what you do tome. You haven't touched me, haven't done a thing to me, and just looking atyou and thinking about what I'm going to do has made me that hard."

My fingers go to her shoulders. I slide one bra strap down her arm, thenthe other. I'm so feverish for her now that even the bits of skin I exposeseem terribly erotic to me, and I can't keep from kissing her there, wherethe straps have been. Her skin is soft and just slightly salty with excitement.She wants to twist away, but I've told her not to move. She looks lovely withher bra straps down: lovely and vulnerable.

My fingers go to the clasp on her bra. I unhook it and feel the garment sagunder the weight of her heavy tits. I push her hands down to her sides. A slighttouch and the bra slides from her body, falling like a whisper to the floor.

I take her hands now and clip her wrists back together behind her, emphasizingher nakedness. I don't know what excites me so much about tying her arms, theway it makes her seem so vulnerable, so trusting. I know how it is for her:it's hard for her to express herself sexually, and so she relies on me to expressit for her, to bring all her hidden desires and shameful secrets out of her.She's so totally feminine, the way she waits to be taken and fucked, made todo the most horrible things. She doesn't show it, but that's what she wants.I know it.

Standing behind her I extend my arms in front of her. I bring my hands inslowly, until her nipples just touch my palms. They're stiff and eager, andtickle the palms of my hands as they rise to press against me with her breathing.Finally my touch is more than she can bear, and she caves her chest, bringingher shoulders up to protect herself.

I go to the dresser lamp and turn the lights off. I leave the bedside lampon, and throw a red scarf over the shade. It's crude, I know, but it givesthe dim light a lurid, red cast, making the room feel even warmer than it is.I come up before her, and I sink to my knees at her feet.

It's like a scene from some pagan religion, where the captor is now the captured.I reach behind her, pressing my cheek to her belly, and I find the zipper onthe back of the skirt. I pull it down, and my fingers fumble at the clasp.I unhook it and I tug the tight skirt down over her hips.

She isn't wearing a slip. She's just wearing her stockings and the sapphireblue panties that are like the barest V of fabric over her groin, clingingto her, almost transparent. Above it is the smooth expanse of her belly, dottedwith the inviting shadow of her naval. My face is on a level with her crotch,and I look up at her, my prisoner, over the fluid lines of her stomach, thearch of her rib cage, to the projection of her breasts. Her eyes are closed,her nostrils dilated. This is the moment of her triumph and shame, when she'srevealed in her naked beauty, when my acceptance or rejection of her hangsin the balance.

The matter's already been decided, and there's no question that she ownsmy heart and soul at this moment. I push my face into her crotch as if I'mreceiving a benediction, my fingers spread wide around the firm globes of herass, squeezing hard, as if I could squeeze some feminine essence out of herand into my mouth; squeeze the sweetness out of her.

I inhale her, the smell of her perfume and her aroma of arousal. I push herback. She almost stumbles, but still I push her back, crawling after her onmy knees, until her legs hit the edge of the bed and she falls back upon it,unable to break her fall because her hands are bound behind her. My face isstill in her crotch, and I'm like a demented dog, inhaling her smell, her humidity.I spread her thighs and I lick the crotch band of her panties, the wetnessfrom my tongue meeting her own wetness from the other side, feeling the puffinessof her pussy, engorged with excitement. I try to move the tight crotch piecewith my tongue but it's too tight. I'll have to take her panties off.

But that's all right. I need the respite in which to regain control of myselfanyhow. I'm letting my excitement run away with me, the excitement of havingher like this with me, the way I've always fantasized.

I stand up and go to the dresser where the toys are laid out, and I takethe nipple clamps. She watches me nervously, but she doesn't protest as I slipthe little rings down the tweezer ends and open the silver clips.

"Sit up," I tell her.

"Rob, wait. Do you have to?"

"Sit up."

She does as I say and I kneel with one leg on the bed. Her hair is piledin back of her head and held with pins but I can still grab enough to tilther face back for my kiss, and my kiss is searching, cautious, making sureshe's still at that high level of excitement I want her at. She is. She's frightened,but her tongue is eager too, and tells me she's ready for this but I have tohurry, to catch her at this peak of surrender.

I place the legs of one clamp around her nipple and slide the little ringup, tightening the legs. Higher, and the higher it goes the tighter the clipgrasps the excited little bud. She watches, frowning, but fascinated as thelittle arms close on her flesh, squeezing her, until she makes a little sound,a whimper of discomfort. I make it just a little tighter and there I stop.

I do the same with the other clamp, and when I'm finished her breasts areconnected by a silver chain that glimmers in the dim light of the room. There'sthe symbolism of the chain against her naked skin, the sight of the token crueltyof the hard and unforgiving metal on the softness of her flesh, hard like theurgency of my desire. There's the weight of the dangling chain pulling gentlyat her breasts, like a constant reminder to her of her own femininity.

I sit behind her and pull the pins from her hair. I seek them out and pullthem free one by one, until her hair falls down around her shoulders. I gatherit up in my hands and use it to pull her back against me, pull her back andturn her face to me so I can kiss her, licking her lips, biting her gently.I can't keep my other hand from coming around and finding the chain. I pullit slightly, distending her nipples and making her gasp. I control her tits,just like I control the rest of her. She's my slave for the night.

"Lie back now," I say, and I arrange the pillows for her.

Then I'm off the bed. I lie her down, take the waistband of her panties inmy hands and tug them down. She lifts her hips to help me, fearful that I'llrip them in my excitement. By the time they're down to her thighs they've rolledinto no more than a thin band of fabric, and I tug them off and throw themon a chair.

There's no way she can hide now, and nothing she can do but lie there cladonly in her stockings and shoes, the silver chain puddled between her breasts.

I kiss the dome of her shoulder, the soft hillocks of her breasts, my handtracing down the valley of her stomach, the well of her navel. She's shavedfor me. She's as bare and naked as a child, innocent, with no secrets. I feelthe rawness of where she's shaved, like a baby's face with the beginning ofa five-o'clock shadow. It couldn't have been easy for her, but she did it forme.

Then my lips are following my fingers down her body, my mouth open like themouth of a starving man so I can feel her skin rub against my lips as I go.I don't stand on ceremony and I don't tease. I want her in my mouth. I wantthe softness of her sex, all that sensitivity and excitement. I want to driveher wild, and more than that, I want to satisfy this carnal craving for herI can feel like an ache in my mouth. My lips slide over her shaved mound andclose wetly over her slit.

She jerks in the bed, her hips thrusting up at me in reflex as she archesoff the bed with a sudden, unexpected gasp of need. I grab her ankles in myhands and push her legs up, knees to her chest, exposing her before she canthink to deny me. I use my tongue on her, my lips capturing her slick labia,my tongue plowing through her unresisting flesh. It's so sweet the way a womangets excited: how she gets softer and swollen, wet and pink with suffused blood.The sheer tactile pleasure of her beneath my lips and tongue inflames me andmakes me groan out loud.

I sink into the pleasure of her body. All the tying and grabbing and forcingis done, all to bring us to this moment. I've had to bind her, not only forthe sight of her helplessness, but to keep her from interfering with my ownenjoyment of her body. If her hands were free she'd be caressing me in return,trying to reciprocate the pleasure, and I don't want that. She's here to witnesswhat I feel for her, to see what she does to me. She's here to be used formy pleasure.

"Oh God, Rob! Stop!"

"What?" I snarl with impatience, pulling my face from her, yet still holdingonto her ankles. I'm like an animal interrupted during its feeding, strandsof her thick secretions wetting my moustache and lips. I look down at my victim;see her pussy twitching convulsively like a lover's lips, inviting me back.

"What do you mean stop? I don't want to stop! I want you to come. I wantyou to come in my mouth. I want you to fill me with your hot come and let itsplash over my face, you little whore! I want everything from you, Ashley!I want to fuck your pussy and fuck your mouth. I want to shove my cock intoyour ass and come all over your tits. I want everything you've got!"

She's dripping wet now and there's no hiding the fact, wet with my salivaand her own lubrications, and she's moaning and whimpering at the spectacleI'm making of myself between her legs. My lust crashes against her like wavesagainst some rocky shore and with each crash I seem to drive her back, driveher deeper into her own desires, where she doesn't want to go. I know it'slewd what I'm doing to her, almost degrading, but she knows that her salvationlies in this kind of degradation, and even as she tries to resist and denywhat's happening to her, she can't keep her hips from lifting up blindly tomy mouth. She is a whore and I've made her that way, and her fingers twisthelplessly behind her back in abject helplessness, trying to gain a purchasein the rumpled bed cover, as if she could pull herself free of my desire forher.

She's close to orgasm and trembling, already hanging on the edge of completesurrender, afraid to let go, afraid to give up her last shred of pride andcome like a slut in my brutal mouth. But I won't let her get away. Tonightshe's going to let go. Tonight everything she has, everything she is, belongsto me. I let go of her legs and crawl on top of her, kissing her, licking her,feeling her move against me. She's trembling and she turns her face away, tryingto hide her shame from me, searching for breath and trying to regain some composure,but I won't let her do that either.

I pull her face to me and kiss her savagely, showing her how much I needher, letting it all out. I stretch out on top of her and feel the soft warmthof her body heaving beneath me. She's trying to get into position, even asshe tries to control her urges her pussy's reaching for me, trying to pullme inside. The hard clips on her nipples press into my chest as I work my kneesbetween her slick, stockinged thighs, pushing her legs apart, opening her up.The head of my cock finds the soft wetness in the dripping swamp between herlegs.

Her eyes are clenched in denial at her own shamelessness as her body reachesfor me, arching off the bed, her legs apart, searching for me. Helpless, herhands tied, her body still seeks me out, and I know that no matter what I doto her now or how I treat her, she will still seek me out. She's at the pointwhere she'll endure anything for me now. Everything feels good.

It inflames me. Her beauty and her surrender and her eagerness to give herselfmake me dizzy with lust and I groan loudly as I enter her and feel her hotflesh yield before me, feel her hips drive up to meet me in her own impatienthunger. We're desperate for each other now with a desire that feels like anguish,and her body is all the answer I need. In her softness and her eagerness Ican feel her need to be crushed by my desire, to be possessed, to let me enfoldher in my lust for her and carry her away.

But for all that she fucks beautifully, automatically, like an animal, shovingherself hard up around me, urging me to stretch her open and make a place formyself inside her. For all her mildness and placid beauty and the demurenessof the stockings on her legs, she fucks like me like a wild woman, as if she'sno longer herself; and that's just what I want. It's the excitement of thegame, and the cuffs on her wrists, the feeling of being captured and compelled,as if I'm forcing her to act this way, are all part of it. The bindings onher arms hold her wrists in an implacable embrace and dare her to try her strengthagainst them, and they set her free. They hold her prisoner like my lust holdsher prisoner, and there's no way out except this way, by giving herself, byopening herself up to the plundering invader between her thighs.

Her head's thrown to the side, her hair stuck to her sweating face, The tendonsin her neck stand out as she gasps for air to fuel the fire raging inside.My hands are on her breasts and I can feel them flex as she strains againstthe leather cuffs. My thumbs play with the metal clips that hold her nipplesprisoner, sending shards of delicious pain through her body. She's everythingI knew she would be, everything I brought her here for: a sexual animal, fightingme even as she gives herself; fighting as we both fight: to be the last oneto go, to be the last one to be overcome by the tidal wave of orgasm that'sbuilding over us even now.

I plunge my cock into her, stabbing hard and deep again and again, drivingher ass down into the mattress, fucking her with all the strength in my body.I hold her buttocks in my wide-spread fingers, find her rectum with my littlefinger and enter her there too. She cries out and drives her pussy up ontome, trying to escape the lewd invasion, but I keep after her, sinking in tothe first knuckle, then the second, twisting around until I can feel my hardcock on the other side of her fleshy barrier, feel the way my prick fills herand then recedes, again and again, like a piston working in a pump.

She wraps her legs around me and tries to hold me still, tries to quell theraging fire of pleasure in her loins, but her strength is no match for my desire,and my ass continues to rise and fall, knocking the breath from her body andmaking the clips tremble on her tits. I duck my head and grab the chain betweenmy teeth, raise my head like a horse with a bridle between its teeth, pullingon her sensitive nipples. Ashley cries out again and arches her back tryingto ease the delicious pain, but she soon gives up. She's overwhelmed by sensation.All she can do is lie there and take it, all the punishment and love I'm forcingon her.

I'm close; I have to stop, slow down. I rear up on my knees, looming overher as if in triumph, though she's the one who's brought me to this state ofbeing barely able to hold onto my ejaculation. From here I can look down atthe landscape of her body, her curves, the rolling sinuosities of her womanlyform. My eyes are drawn to her pussy, where my cock is poised half in, halfout, a cruel invader, wet with her juice. Her clit is so engorged that it sticksout like a little tongue and licks along the top of my prick as I slide slowlyin and out of her, idling, waiting for her to catch up with me. I want herwith me when I go. I want us to be in the same place at the same time.

I reach down and touch her cunt, spread her apart and slide my fingers againstthe greasy wetness of her clit. I swear I can feel it pulse with eagernessagainst my fingers, and the sensation of being touched there is too much forher. She jerks as if punched in the stomach. She ties to say something, triesto give voice to her emotions, but she has no breath. She doesn't have to sayanything. I can already see that she's starting to come: an avalanche of pleasureis sliding down upon her, and she's powerless to resist. I can feel it in theway her body tenses beneath me, the way she starts to shudder. I can see thesudden surprise in her face and the look in her eyes is almost fearful. Shedoesn't want to go there, not alone, but I'm there too, and I tell her.

"Do it, Ashley! Get it! Come for me, baby. I'm gonna come, I'm going to makeit too! Here it is baby, here it is…"

Her climax is my signal to let go. Let go of everything. I fall forward ontop of her, close my eyes, and give myself over to my sexual instincts. Myhips slam at her cruelly, painfully, and if she weren't so far gone into herown pleasure I'd be hurting her, filling her senses with me, driving everythingelse from her mind except me, my cock inside her, my explosion.

I grab the cheeks of her ass in my hands, pull her tight against me, driveas deep as I can. I can and feel her squeezing me with a force beyond her consciouscontrol, her very body telling me: now, now, come in me now, and this evidenceof her final surrender is the last thing I need to send me over the edge.

My come boils up, comes hurtling up from some place deep within but alwaysright below the surface with her, always there, always ready for her. I burstinside her in an explosion of ecstasy, splattering her insides with my hotcome, jetting my release in thick, hot streams into the secret depths of herbody. The tension pours out of me in waves of shuddering pleasure, and in mymind's eye I can see my cock inside her, spurting into her darkness, coatingher very insides with all my hot male essence. It's pure ecstasy to empty myselfinto her, turning all my anguished desire into hot, blinding pleasure; allthe savagery and rage to own her pouring out of me in shuddering release, ablinding joy, a spiritual fusion.

Beneath me Ashley quivers like a bowstring. I hear her cry out with eachhot blast of my semen into her ravaged depths; hear her give up all pretenseof resistance at last. Her orgasm overwhelms her, sends her over the edge fallinginto her slutty animal pleasure: the sobs and moans of a well-fucked humanfemale taking her selfish reward.

So much come. So much that I feel it seep around the tight plug of my cock,feel it trickling down to where my finger is still pushed into her defenselessanus, coating my finger with the thick, viscous heat, and still my cock jumpsinside her, spitting out the last of my load, the shuddering last final drops.

I pull my deflating prick from her, reluctantly, trailing strings of commingledfluids, my semen and her lubricious oils. I roll off her and lie there, watchingthe pulse hammering in her throat, watching her tongue come out to moistenher parched lips, seeing her very aliveness. She doesn't look that much differentfrom me: two arms, two legs, two eyes, a mouth. But in those subtle differences—theswell of her breasts, the flare of her hips, the softness of her features—whata world of difference there is to make me feel the things she makes me feel.

I'll unclip her wrists and take her in my arms, calm her down, tell her allthe things she made me feel. But then when she's recovered, when we've bothrecovered, I know there's more to come. There's always more to come with her.It's a hunger that can be appeased but never satisfied. It never ends

It never ends.