She runs her hands over the waistband, skimming her fingers over the top and tugging it down a little. Not enough. Raising up farther, she slides her hands down the sides, head bobbing closer to my chest, eyes still fixed to mine until she curves her palms over my arse, grabbing and caressing and rubbing until she whispers, “Raise up,” and I do so she can slowly draw them down to my thighs, then my knees, then stopping to take my shoes off so she can pull them all the way off.
I’m scared to glance downwards, my erection straining against my briefs. Once she’s folded my jeans to the side and placed it with my t-shirt, Rosa sits back on her heels, just her hand reaching forward to rub the side of her forefinger along my length.
A groan escapes from between my lips, my head tilting back so I can stare at the blank and unerotic tiles on the ceiling. She moves closer, head in my lap, her breath reaching through the fabric of my underwear to warm the side of my cock.
My wrists strain at the ties, wanting to free themselves and plunge deep into her hair, holding her where I want her, controlling her. When I can’t, I grip the arms of the chair, squeezing so tightly that the plastic edge of the ties would dig into my flesh if it weren’t for the protective bands.
“Just give me the word when you’re ready.” Rosa sits upright again, breasts touching against my legs, then she cups my kneecaps and pushes them apart, making me spread my legs wide, exposing me. “Do you want me to strip off your briefs, too?”
I can’t swallow. My head tips back again, eyes closing. There are too many sensations flooding through me to track.
“I have…” Rosa moves away, and the distance makes me hollow. Even though she’s right there, scrabbling through her cabinet of curiosities again, finding something more to make things pleasurable for me. Trying so hard. Wanting so much to please me.
The switch in my brain flips and I struggle against the bonds again. At the movement, she turns, the glance over her shoulder almost enough to make me come on the spot.
“You won’t be able to break them,” she says, but there’s something in her eyes that says she’s not telling me everything. I flex my wrists, enjoying the dull chaffing of the plastic. “And the chair’s heavy. You shouldn’t be able to stand.”
I try, not getting far, the muscles straining in my lower back.
“If you truly want to feel bound, I can tie your legs.” She moves back towards me, crouching rather than kneeling, eyes glued to my face. “And I have these.” She shows me a plug. An internal vibrator, operated by a remote.
Rosa waggles the controller. “I can use this on you while you’re watching. It’ll help you orgasm if you need the assistance.”
While I’m watching. My spirits deflate a little. Yes, I know that’s why we’re here. No, I’m no longer sure I can stand it. Stand to watch someone else touching her right in front of me. See him running his fingers over all the parts of her I have yet to touch. That I can’t allow myself to touch.
Grief twists me until I struggle to breathe. Rosa lays her fingers on the side of my face, instantly calming.
“Or I could walk out and tell Andy we don’t need him,” she says as though she reached deep into the meat of my brain and stole the thought.
The last item in her hand is a condom, and she tears the wrapper, pulling it out and resting it on the top of my knee while she slips her hands into the band of my briefs, easing them out so my hard cock juts free.
She smiles at me, a slow, lazy smile full of a thousand promises. She places the condom on her tongue, then bends forward, taking my head into her mouth, tongue moving in rhythmic pulses as she unrolls it using the pressure of her lips.
“Fucking hell.”
My head drops back, tears of co-mingled frustration and desire in my eyes. She can’t get all the way to the base, nowhere near, but her hand takes over where her mouth stops, rolling the protection down my shaft before gently cupping my balls and giving a squeeze.
“I could dismiss him, then walk back in here and straddle you. Lower myself down on you and work back and forth until I’m finally able to take all of you. Would you prefer that?”
The words don’t come out, they’re tangled in my head as I imagine the scene, imagine the sensation. No tears. No pain. No fear. Just her expert body giving me what I’d lost hope for.
“You’d be completely under my control,” she continues with a dazed look in her eyes and a sing-song quality to her voice. “I’ll be careful. I won’t let you hurt me, not unless that’s what I want. I can just use you for my own pleasure, yeah?”
Her hands wander all over my body. They stroke me, pinch me, her nails scraping against my sensitive skin until it’s hard enough to breathe, let alone listen.
But the words are their own temptation. They insert pictures into my mind that I never would have dreamed up by myself.
She stands, putting on knee on the edge of the seat, right between mine, thrusting it in a lazy rhythm back and forth, back and forth. The same tempo as her voice.
“Do you want me to use you while you’re strapped in here, unable to do a single thing to stop me? Ride you until I come, rub you against my clit until I come again. Over and over, as many times as I need, and at the end of it… at the end if you’re good, if you’re lucky… if you beg me hard enough, I might let you finish.”
“Yes,” I manage, having to fight my throat to get the sound out. I’m panting, my chest heaving like I’ve run sprints for twenty minutes straight. “Yes, I’d prefer that.”
Rosa touches my face, running her fingers along my jawline, then twisting into my hair, clenching into a fist to tug my head back. “You’re sure? You want me to send Andy away and make you my new plaything?”
Her knee inches higher, closer and closer to my throbbing cock, and I would say anything to have her move it further, move until it rubs against me, providing the friction I crave.
Then it touches against me, and I thrust my hips, making the most of it, trying to steal my release before she’s ready, the knowledge of how angry she’ll be if I get there without her driving me insane with delight.
