“Good,” she says, leaning forward so her hair forms a curtain around our faces, her breath tickling against my ear. “Because I want you to. I also have a little surprise of my own, but I need you to pause your judgement.”
“You’ll get no judgement from me,” I assure her, then wonder if I’ve said the wrong thing as she bends away.
But it’s just to grab something from her bag.
“Now, I know you thought this type of bond wasn’t fitting to your masculinity or some such thing, but this is my turn to direct operations, so what I say, goes.” With a flourish, she produces a set of fluffy cuffs much like the ones I’d seen in her bedside cabinet.
For a moment, my mind goes somewhere it shouldn’t and I jerk it back. Not a task that takes a lot of willpower, considering the temptations on offer.
“Now, just relax,” she says, threading the cuffs through the gap in my headrest, securing one wrist in front and one behind.
To reach the second, she pitches her weight forward and her breasts hang tantalisingly close to my mouth. I stretch my tongue out, like I can lick her closer. When she finishes securing the cuff, she stays in place, tugging down the edge of her bra so her nipple slides into my waiting mouth.
“Oh, you’re already being such a good boy,” she whispers, her voice becoming husky so quickly I can hear her vocal cords thickening with lust.
The praise does something complicated and uniquely pleasurable inside my head. All I want to do is chase that feeling, earn myself another reward. My mouth sucks at her, rubbing my tongue roughly against her to tease at her hardening peak, then letting it rest, warming inside my mouth, before I begin the hugely satisfying process over again.
I hear a buzz and at first think it’s coming from inside my head, a rampant train of sexual desire firing my nerve endings until they’re excited enough to form an auditory hallucination. But when I feel my body tip, I understand it’s the noise of the seat adjustment lever. Soon, I’m three-quarters reclined, my arms still stretching over my head.
“This shirt needs to go,” Rosa says in a lilting voice, tugging at the offending fabric and making a growling sound when my restraints stop her from tugging the whole thing loose.
She settles for bunching it up near my bound hands, then strokes my naked torso, alternating between the smooth caresses of her palms and the maddening tease of her fingernails, lightly scratching against my skin.
Her head lowers, taking my right nipple into her mouth, first working at it with her tongue, then holding it between her teeth, the threat of danger making another surge of blood rush straight to my cock.
I tip my hips up towards her, but she closes her teeth a little harder and I retreat, falling into instant obedience. I shut my eyes, letting my body relax into the seat, letting her do what she likes with me, happy to see where it leads.
Her hands curve over my body, initiating a flush of self-consciousness still overhanging from my tubby phase. It’s soon lost in the appreciative noises she makes as she discovers each new delight.
She moves lower, at first bending her body in a way I can’t even imagine mine doing, then slipping down into the footwell as her hands fumble at my belt.
Once unfastened, she pulls the thick leather strap out of the loops, bending it double and snapping it near my waist.
I flinch back, laughing, then frowning with concern as she smacks it against her palm. “What?” she asks, a devilish smile playing across her lips. “Good boys don’t need to worry about getting the belt.”
She sits back on her heels, arching her eyebrows. “Unless you’d like that, Mr Weybourne. Would you like me to give you a nice, stinging slap?”
The belt hits lightly against the side of my knee on the last word, making me jump, making me giddy. While she eagerly eats up my expressions, I try to think of butterflies and rainbows and kittens. Anything to ward back the rampant need that’s bringing me close to the edge.
“Or would you rather I give you a present?” she teases, her hand creeping towards my waistband again, this time unbuttoning my jeans and slowly, slowly, slowly rolling the zipper down then dragging at my briefs until my cock springs free.
“Such a big boy,” she murmurs and the sound echoes in a shiver down my spine. “You make such a good toy.”
Rosa mounts me again, pulling aside the scrap of fabric masquerading as underwear, and rubbing herself against me, already wet, the satin kiss a temptation that has me tensing my arms, clinging to the headrest as I try not to buck against her, not wanting another reprimand, wanting only to be whatever she needs me to be.
Her lips seek mine again, mouth gasping as she flexes her hips and grinds hard against me, then eases the pressure, finding a rhythm that makes me shudder and squirm against the moulded seat.
Then she reaches into her bag again, this time bringing out a condom, unrolling it along my length with her warm hands, pausing to squeeze and caress and pump as she makes sure it’s covering me from head to base.
She guides me to her entrance, hovering above me, the tease nearly enough to make me black out from need, finally sliding down onto me, encasing me inside her delicious, dripping cunt.
Her movements are sensuous, beguiling, riding me with long, tender motions, taking me deeper each time she slides along my length, so deep that I feel that same old pinch of worry—I’m hurting her, I’m causing pain, I’m too big, too clumsy, too brutal—then a cry catches in her throat, a call of such pure pleasure that pride and gratitude and happiness burst inside my chest, warming me until it singes my flesh.
“You feel so good,” she moans, wrapping her hand around my neck and pulling me forward, dragging so hard that the seat rises back into an upright position, all so she can feast on my mouth again. “Is it okay for you?”
A laugh escapes my mouth, transforming halfway through into a groan. “No, it’s a thousand times better than okay,” I murmur, chuckling again as she bites onto my shoulder, the quick flash of pain a counterpoint to the pleasure that intensifies both.
“You want to come inside my cunt or my mouth?”
