He pressed a button on the chair that slid me forward, then adjusted only my lower half so he was sitting between my legs.
He gripped my waist and then leaned back into my mouth. I parted my lips for him; his tongue slipped into my mouth, and the way ours danced caused a moan to escape from both of our mouths at the same time. He reached over and pressed the remote to start the timer. He sucked one of my nipples into his mouth and swirled his tongue around it, then he replaced it with the clamp.
I hissed as it covered my nipple, the stinging sensation making me quake.
Then he did the same to the other nipple- licked it, then placed the clamp over it.
He sucked on my neck, gripping the top of my ass with his hand. With the other hand, his fingers met my center. I threw my head back and moaned at his touch.
“You’re so wet.” He groaned.
He took his hand from between my legs and then brought it to his mouth and tasted me.
“Fuck.” He said, gripping himself through the fabric of his pants.
In an instant, he put his fingers back at my center and flicked my clit. His tongue slid across my skin; my hips involuntarily moved back and forth, chasing the feeling brewing in the pit of my stomach. He continued to rub it, faster with every flick of his finger. Then he applied pressure and did it slowly.
“Oohhh!” I moaned.
I struggled against the restraints stopping me. It was clear at that moment why he wanted me to be strapped. It was something about the fact that I couldn’t run, move, or fight against the pleasure that heightened it.
I shook against the chair; my head fell back, and my chest heaved as I came hard as hell. I could feel my juices underneath me immediately. Making the chair and my butt slippery and sticky. He watched me unravel at his touch and gave me a look so sexy that I was probably going to do it again.
“One,” I whispered as I looked at him, and then at the clock. There were still 86 minutes and 2 seconds left.
I was ashamed he had made me cum in three minutes.
He took one of the nipple clamps off and then adjusted me a little more. He didn’t move with a sense of urgency, like hewas racing against the clock. It was a controlled, relaxed, slow experience.
“Do you need a break?” He asked.
This nigga was offering breaks while he was on a countdown. I should have screamed Taco at the top of my lungs. Because what the hell did he know that I didn’t?
“No.” I declined.
He scraped his fingers along the inside of my thigh, giving me chills. Then he placed his mouth back over my nipple, and his mouth swirled around it again. He bit it, then he brought his fingers to my mouth. He slipped them past my lips. I sucked them, getting them wet. He groaned against my breast, and then he removed it from my mouth.
I was wetter than the beach in a thunderstorm. He wouldn’t need the help of my mouth, but I’m sure he found that out quickly.
He lined his finger at my entrance and then slid it inside of me.
“Damn.” He said just as his other finger joined the first.
My walls clenched his fingers tightly. He worked them in and out of me, then he went from slow and deep to fast.
“Open your eyes and look at me.” He demanded as he grabbed my throat.
Then he bit my bottom lip and showered them with short kisses.
“You’re so tight and wet, pretty.” He groaned.
I was losing control, but he seemed to have it all. The way his fingers invaded me had me on another level.
“This time I want you to be my good girl and tell me when you’re about to cum for me. Okay?” He asked.
“Yeah…” I panted; I couldn’t focus. My mouth was open, and I was desperately trying to maintain eye contact with him, but I felt like I was about to go cross-eyed.
“I love how you whine, pretty.”
