disorganized, tardy mess, she also had the lovely character trait of being a big procrastinator.
“I’m going to tie your wrists behind your back.”
“Yes.”
Please.
He spun her around, and seconds later she felt the scratchy rope around her wrists. When he was done, he turned her back to
face him.
Just the act of him binding her made her pussy throb and dampen. Just knowing he wanted to own her, knowing he wanted to use
her, made her insides flutter.
He unbuttoned her blouse, the backs of his knuckles warm against her skin. When it was undone, he pulled one of her breasts
out of her bra and squeezed her flesh, tightly. She gasped as desire washed over her, landing in a hot pool right between
her legs.
“Yes,” she hissed.
He undid the front of her jeans and slid his hand beneath her panties to slip a finger into her moist folds.
“You’re wet for me.” His fingers were long and warm as he reached deeper, and she bucked against his hand. “Fuck my hand,
Joy. Show me how much you want to be fucked.”
Even as her skin burned with embarrassment, she began to move her hips against his hand, back and forth, rubbing her slick
skin until her pussy felt swollen, wanting. He beaded her nipple between the fingertips of his other hand and pulled; she
cried out as the sharp pain shot straight to her sex.
“Yes, that’s my girl. Beautiful girl.” He slapped her breast, lightly, and she felt her flesh bounce when he did it again
harder.
“Ash…” She couldn’t believe what he was doing to her, what she was letting him do. Letting go, giving him total power over
her. Using her.
She continued moving against his hand, let him slap her breasts. Her arms clenched behind her back, her wrists strained against
the twine. Her thigh muscles tensed as she moved her hips, back and forth, trying to hold off her orgasm, just a minute longer….
“No, not yet.” He released her pussy and then brought the finger that he’d used to fuck her to her lips. He ran his fingertip
over her mouth, pushed inside, forced her to taste herself.
“I want you on your knees.”
Nodding, she sank before him. The concrete ground was hard through her jeans, hard on her knees, but she didn’t care; every
little discomfort only heightened the arousal coursing through her. It seemed the more disheveled she felt, the more Ash liked
it. And, bizarrely, the more confident she became.
She looked up, waiting. He took her head in his hands and stepped forward. Rubbing her face against his denim-clad erection,
she felt the abrasion of the fabric on her cheek and welcomed it.
“Feel that? Feel how fucking hard you make me?”
“Yes,” she said, her voice husky. She nuzzled him more, wanting to feel every inch of him.
He unbuttoned his jeans and tugged them and his boxers down his legs. “Open your mouth, Joy.”
She did, and he guided himself across her lips, taking his time as he rolled the head of his cock across her teeth, her tongue,
the roof of her mouth.
“Lick the head of my cock, Joy.”
Every word he uttered made her tremble, made her throbbing pussy wetter. Wanting to please him, she licked around his engorged
head, swallowing the drip of come that leaked out of the tip. When she swallowed, he jerked in her mouth so she did it again.
Lick, swallow, suck; she found a rhythm and he was moving, too, moving with her.
“Go on, Joy. I want you to take me as deep as you can.”
She glanced up, saw the sweat beading on his brow and the way his hair hung in his face. Despite his controlled words, his
face was tender; his eyes were dark and affectionate. Her heart swelled, and she took him deeper into her mouth, as deep as
she could, until she nearly gagged, but he held back with perfect timing.
His hands were on her head, holding her steady, pushing her to the very edge, like he knew exactly how deep she could take
him. “That’s right, Joy. Your mouth feels so fucking good. You take it so
“I’m going to tie your wrists behind your back.”
“Yes.”
Please.
He spun her around, and seconds later she felt the scratchy rope around her wrists. When he was done, he turned her back to
face him.
Just the act of him binding her made her pussy throb and dampen. Just knowing he wanted to own her, knowing he wanted to use
her, made her insides flutter.
He unbuttoned her blouse, the backs of his knuckles warm against her skin. When it was undone, he pulled one of her breasts
out of her bra and squeezed her flesh, tightly. She gasped as desire washed over her, landing in a hot pool right between
her legs.
“Yes,” she hissed.
He undid the front of her jeans and slid his hand beneath her panties to slip a finger into her moist folds.
“You’re wet for me.” His fingers were long and warm as he reached deeper, and she bucked against his hand. “Fuck my hand,
Joy. Show me how much you want to be fucked.”
Even as her skin burned with embarrassment, she began to move her hips against his hand, back and forth, rubbing her slick
skin until her pussy felt swollen, wanting. He beaded her nipple between the fingertips of his other hand and pulled; she
cried out as the sharp pain shot straight to her sex.
“Yes, that’s my girl. Beautiful girl.” He slapped her breast, lightly, and she felt her flesh bounce when he did it again
harder.
“Ash…” She couldn’t believe what he was doing to her, what she was letting him do. Letting go, giving him total power over
her. Using her.
She continued moving against his hand, let him slap her breasts. Her arms clenched behind her back, her wrists strained against
the twine. Her thigh muscles tensed as she moved her hips, back and forth, trying to hold off her orgasm, just a minute longer….
“No, not yet.” He released her pussy and then brought the finger that he’d used to fuck her to her lips. He ran his fingertip
over her mouth, pushed inside, forced her to taste herself.
“I want you on your knees.”
Nodding, she sank before him. The concrete ground was hard through her jeans, hard on her knees, but she didn’t care; every
little discomfort only heightened the arousal coursing through her. It seemed the more disheveled she felt, the more Ash liked
it. And, bizarrely, the more confident she became.
She looked up, waiting. He took her head in his hands and stepped forward. Rubbing her face against his denim-clad erection,
she felt the abrasion of the fabric on her cheek and welcomed it.
“Feel that? Feel how fucking hard you make me?”
“Yes,” she said, her voice husky. She nuzzled him more, wanting to feel every inch of him.
He unbuttoned his jeans and tugged them and his boxers down his legs. “Open your mouth, Joy.”
She did, and he guided himself across her lips, taking his time as he rolled the head of his cock across her teeth, her tongue,
the roof of her mouth.
“Lick the head of my cock, Joy.”
Every word he uttered made her tremble, made her throbbing pussy wetter. Wanting to please him, she licked around his engorged
head, swallowing the drip of come that leaked out of the tip. When she swallowed, he jerked in her mouth so she did it again.
Lick, swallow, suck; she found a rhythm and he was moving, too, moving with her.
“Go on, Joy. I want you to take me as deep as you can.”
She glanced up, saw the sweat beading on his brow and the way his hair hung in his face. Despite his controlled words, his
face was tender; his eyes were dark and affectionate. Her heart swelled, and she took him deeper into her mouth, as deep as
she could, until she nearly gagged, but he held back with perfect timing.
His hands were on her head, holding her steady, pushing her to the very edge, like he knew exactly how deep she could take
him. “That’s right, Joy. Your mouth feels so fucking good. You take it so
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