answer.
She worked frantically, trying to get herself off on her own shorts, but all she managed to do was make them slip farther down until they hung uselessly low on the saddle of her hips. I helped her get them off, pulling them down then holding her so I could feel her work her thighs and pelvis to make the shorts slide all the way down her legs, undressing herself for me. It was a beautiful display, selfish and , a nasty little girl just dying to get her panties off for the bad boys.
Still, I didn't touch her, didn't give her what she wanted. I pushed my knee up hard against her pussy, lifting her slightly and giving her something to rub against. She was only too grateful for the ride and I felt her moist warmth searing through my jeans as she rubbed against me like a bitch in heat. I pinned her against the door as I peeled her top up and over her head, but because her wrists here clipped together I couldn’t get it all the way off, so I left it dangling from her arms. The heavy globes of her breasts were now exposed, covered with a sudden rush of goose bumps.
More than losing her shorts, losing her top seemed to make Emma truly naked.
Her tits were gorgeous—generous, giving, vulnerable. No doubt part of the appeal of having her hands tied over her head was the way it left her tits so flagrantly exposed, so deliciously defenseless. I grabbed her bound wrists in one hand and pushed them up even higher, raising her breasts so I could bend my head and suck and lick her nipples.
I nuzzled against her tits, pushing them around with my face. licking and biting as they jiggled and bounced against my cheeks like ripe fruit. I wanted to devour her, just eat her up, and the more excited I got, the more excited she got. She was ready to be devoured. I could feel it.
She was panting as I reached up and started searching for the pins holding her hair in place, removing them one by one until her hair tumbled over her face. The long silky strands hid her breasts like a curtain, parting just enough to let the pink-brown nipples poke through. She opened her eyes and looked at me through her hair like an animal through a jungle brake, wild and feral, waiting for me to strike, waiting to see what I was going to do next, ready for whatever I wanted.
I kissed her then, letting all my the passion just flood over me and take control. I kissed her and lost myself in her mouth as I held her hair in my fist and my other hand roamed all over her naked body, squeezing, caressing, possessing her, the heavy softness of her tits, her tight belly and the sweet flare of her hips. My hand went between her legs and she moaned and pressed her thighs tightly together as if suddenly afraid, a gesture that infuriated me. It was too late for that now, way too late to play shy and modest, and without pausing an instant, I slapped her thighs—two sharp little slaps on the insides of her thighs to make her open them and keep them apart—
surprising her and making her cry out in alarm, right into my mouth.
I owned her now and we both knew it—how dare she try and refuse me? I slapped her thighs again and Emma trembled as she spread them wider. She whimpered and pulled on the rope as if suddenly having second thoughts but I was having none of it. I slid my finger against her naked crease and when I kissed her again I could taste her hot, shameful excitement, her nervous arousal.
"Don’t you close your legs for me, Emma!" I snarled. "Don’t even think of it. I own you now, baby. All of you. Or do you have a problem with that?"
"No," she gasped. "No. I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."
"No, you were thinking. That's the problem. Don’t think. Understand?"
She was naked, her wrists tied to a closet door in this seedy motel on the edge of nowhere, but the things going on between us were deep and real and profound and I wasn't fucking around. I was in charge. When I grabbed her hair and pulled her head back and kissed her hard, she groaned. Her tongue
She worked frantically, trying to get herself off on her own shorts, but all she managed to do was make them slip farther down until they hung uselessly low on the saddle of her hips. I helped her get them off, pulling them down then holding her so I could feel her work her thighs and pelvis to make the shorts slide all the way down her legs, undressing herself for me. It was a beautiful display, selfish and , a nasty little girl just dying to get her panties off for the bad boys.
Still, I didn't touch her, didn't give her what she wanted. I pushed my knee up hard against her pussy, lifting her slightly and giving her something to rub against. She was only too grateful for the ride and I felt her moist warmth searing through my jeans as she rubbed against me like a bitch in heat. I pinned her against the door as I peeled her top up and over her head, but because her wrists here clipped together I couldn’t get it all the way off, so I left it dangling from her arms. The heavy globes of her breasts were now exposed, covered with a sudden rush of goose bumps.
More than losing her shorts, losing her top seemed to make Emma truly naked.
Her tits were gorgeous—generous, giving, vulnerable. No doubt part of the appeal of having her hands tied over her head was the way it left her tits so flagrantly exposed, so deliciously defenseless. I grabbed her bound wrists in one hand and pushed them up even higher, raising her breasts so I could bend my head and suck and lick her nipples.
I nuzzled against her tits, pushing them around with my face. licking and biting as they jiggled and bounced against my cheeks like ripe fruit. I wanted to devour her, just eat her up, and the more excited I got, the more excited she got. She was ready to be devoured. I could feel it.
She was panting as I reached up and started searching for the pins holding her hair in place, removing them one by one until her hair tumbled over her face. The long silky strands hid her breasts like a curtain, parting just enough to let the pink-brown nipples poke through. She opened her eyes and looked at me through her hair like an animal through a jungle brake, wild and feral, waiting for me to strike, waiting to see what I was going to do next, ready for whatever I wanted.
I kissed her then, letting all my the passion just flood over me and take control. I kissed her and lost myself in her mouth as I held her hair in my fist and my other hand roamed all over her naked body, squeezing, caressing, possessing her, the heavy softness of her tits, her tight belly and the sweet flare of her hips. My hand went between her legs and she moaned and pressed her thighs tightly together as if suddenly afraid, a gesture that infuriated me. It was too late for that now, way too late to play shy and modest, and without pausing an instant, I slapped her thighs—two sharp little slaps on the insides of her thighs to make her open them and keep them apart—
surprising her and making her cry out in alarm, right into my mouth.
I owned her now and we both knew it—how dare she try and refuse me? I slapped her thighs again and Emma trembled as she spread them wider. She whimpered and pulled on the rope as if suddenly having second thoughts but I was having none of it. I slid my finger against her naked crease and when I kissed her again I could taste her hot, shameful excitement, her nervous arousal.
"Don’t you close your legs for me, Emma!" I snarled. "Don’t even think of it. I own you now, baby. All of you. Or do you have a problem with that?"
"No," she gasped. "No. I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."
"No, you were thinking. That's the problem. Don’t think. Understand?"
She was naked, her wrists tied to a closet door in this seedy motel on the edge of nowhere, but the things going on between us were deep and real and profound and I wasn't fucking around. I was in charge. When I grabbed her hair and pulled her head back and kissed her hard, she groaned. Her tongue
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