Once finished, he steps back and pops the button of his jeans off, sliding the zipper down. My mouth starts to water. He steps closer to me.
“I see the hunger in your eyes, are you going to be a good girl and show me how you to suck my cock?”
Typically, I’m not one to give a blowjob, but he is a walking, talking, desirable temptation, even from the first time I wanted to but was denied.
“Please,” I beg. Damn, what has gotten into me, he’s unlocked so much in the little time we have been with each other.
With each other, that’s a new concept.
His cock springs free, and if a cock could be beautiful and heavenly made, it’s his. Thick, muscular, and just enough length to make a girl go wild and dick crazy. He starts to slowly stroke himself, and the urge to reach out and grab it was aching. My hands bound, dropping into my lap now I understood. I would go stir crazy for a touch, begging him to release me in the end.
“Open your pretty little mouth, tongue out,” he tells me. I look up at him, staring at him. “And keep those eyes on me.”
His tip slowly tantalizes my tongue, slowly inching his way into my mouth. My warm breath on his tip, his quiet moans turns me on, sending little pulses through me. He continues to inch his way down my throat, in and out. My tongue caresses the underside of his cock, my head taking control moving up and down.
“Fuck,” he hisses out. That’s praise enough for me, to keep going. He groans more, knowing that I’m going to send him over the edge. He hits the back of my throat, I relax my throat, taking him deep. A little water comes from my eyes.
“Angel, your mouth may just be another gift from above,” he moans.
I just want to touch him, feel his heartbeat under my fingertips, feel his breath hitch by every movement under my touch. I would know that in that moment, it was me who had the control, who could drive someone to the point of being on the edge.
I hum while he fucks my throat, his grunts make me lose it, he’s trying to keep control. I suck on him, distracting him as he throws his head back, I spread my legs apart slightly, rub my bound hands against my swollen clit, wanting release. The devious woman in me finds a loophole, he never said I couldn’t touch myself. I can feel myself creeping to the edge, about to combust.
I can taste his precum dripping down my throat, his hand creeps into my hair as I close my eyes for a moment. But not before he steps back, pulling his cock from my mouth, he grips the back of my head and brings me to my feet.
Fuck.
He tsks at me, “Naughty girl, are you touching yourself?”
I’m fucked, and soon hopefully in a good way. He pulls up his pants but doesn’t button them. “You keep adding more onto your punishment.”
“I’m sorry,” I pout. I’m not sorry.
“You tell such pretty lies. Don’t move.” he undoes my binds, for a moment of sweet relief, until he jerks my hands behind me.
“Am I under arrest?” I giggle.
“Charlotte, you keep running that pretty mouth and you won’t like the consequences,” he says darkly.
“Keola, you’ve threatened me with more punishments, and all I have gotten is the no touching. Not teaching very much,” I feel like my grave is starting to be dug. The lightness of his eyes now turned dark. He looks like he’s grown a few more inches in both directions. The little voice in my head tells me to shut up.
“Keep thinking that,” he lays me down, but not before he drags me to the edge of the ring. Something primal, animalistic comes alive.
Should I be scared or thankful for my mouth.
He takes some additional wraps and takes my legs and spreads them apart. He takes one ankle and winds it up connecting it to the ropes of the ring and does the same to the other. With my hands in front of me and my legs spread apart, I’m helpless, the cool air touching my skin. I whimper, my breathing slowing down from the rush of adrenaline.
I feel a light touch of his fingers, trailing the inside of my legs. Teasing every inch of my skin. I can feel myself dripping under the warmth of his touch. Then comes a sharp pain as he smacks my pussy. Not once, but three times, alternating between fingers caressing my skin and a smack.
“Fuck,” I let out. Then he’s gone, his presence gone. I can’t see and my arms behind me don't give me enough leverage.
I hear metal scraping on the concrete floor. I use all my muscle to peek over me. Keola pulls up a metal folding chair and sits, gawking at my wet pussy, like he’s enjoying the show.
He grumbles, pulling the chair closer to me. I know this man isn’t just sitting there and watching me like this. I know he’s a kinky bastard but shit.
“Seriously, a chair?” My anger rings out. Agonizing, that’s what this is.
No sooner did I say something, he gives me a long dragging lick, his tongue claiming every part of my wetness. Devouring me like a forbidden fruit. He gives generous consideration for my swollen nub as he sucks on it, alternating between licking me and sucking on me. My body twists in pleasure, riding the wave of pleasure waiting for it to crash.
