So this is more a description of a scene, than a story, but so are most of mine, and I haven’t let that stop me yet 😉 Besides no one has posted here lately, so I figured I score some points for just getting anything up.

TIED

Received a text at work, “Do you want to?”

I replied, “Yes always”

I set the phone down, staring waiting, excitement starting to pulse through me. I glanced up at the door to my office. It was closed. One hand slipped off the desk. I pushed my hand under my panties. Cupped it and pressed firmly, but otherwise did not move it much, just letting myself feel the warmth, calming myself while I waited. The next text came. My mind screamed, “Go!” I knew we would not have a lot of time.

It was so hard not to run. The adrenaline was making me sweat even though it was barely 30 degrees outside. I was walking faster and faster. A flashing light and I bolted across the street, just ran full out. It’s a miracle I didn’t fall on those heels, but fuck it felt good to run. I was halfway up the next block before I could force myself to stop. My mind dictated, “Present composed”. I walked the last block managing every breath, every step with great effort as my mind began to switch over to where it needed to be.

There he was! I thought, “Damn, how did he get here before me?!?”, then, “ Relax, you couldn’t have gotten here any faster, there was no err in it.” I walked straight into him, like a cheerio up the nozzle of a vacuum. My face tucked under his chin, my hand to his cheek, my lips to his neck… he did not stop me. My heart raced. His hand came up, it curved around my wrist. His touch was firm, heart stopping. He moved my hand down. He stepped forward and it turned me, then we were walking. Everything was going crazy inside me, all that I tamp down when I am away from him, jostling, aching to make its way to the surface.

I wanted to smell him, to lick and taste him, to rub every inch of myself against him. Holding myself apart from him was a physical struggle. We kept walking through the hotel. I felt unbalanced, I was losing track of my surroundings. He stopped. I stopped. We were in a stairwell. I looked into his eyes, they were ravenous and wild just like mine.

That was is it; the last remnants of my self-control evaporated. I fell on him hands moving body pressing, mouth… oh exquisite mouth. He let me pour over and into him, knowing how much, how desperately I needed this. Then his hand plunged to my nether lips. He spread his hand then grabbed and squeezed hard. It lifted me a little and halted every internal process. Jets of electricity shooting up my body randomly the way light sprays out from a sparkler. I half closed my eyes as they rolled up into my head. Processing it consciously is impossible; I just hang on for dear life and try to ride it. I can see silver streaks in the darkness as my mind turns another click. My breathing quickens. He is talking. I struggle to follow… to make my ears work. I start to hear. He tells me how much he wants what is his. I think that’s when I started shaking; it’s also when I started losing time.

Suddenly my sweater was behind my head, entwined with my wool coat tying my arms behind me. He ripped open my bra, and started jerking my pants down in almost a single motion. So there I was, not a single article of clothing off, rather wadded behind me or between my legs, naked and exposed in front from my neck to me knees. He pulled me into him by my nipples. I stumbled forward thinking, “My god, my god he is going to wreck me.” I had a meeting 40 minutes from now, but yes, I wanted it, wanted it like I wanted my next breathe, and whatever I had to handle to have it, I’d handle. My only thought was, “Yes, Master… please.”

He proceeded to treat me roughly, primally. First little slaps to my chest, my breasts and my face. Then harder, it all started to run together, an overwhelming flood of sensation and emotion. I was diving deeper and deeper into it. “Look at you, your hoping for marks aren’t you? Maybe I will. Maybe I won’t.” he said. He was right, I was. Emotion, sensation, intensity had become my whole world; I was so close to the brink. His voice called me back, and I thought, “MASTER! I want to serve my beautiful Master” I started clawing my way back mentally. I worked my arms free and went after his pants. A button, then the zipper, then three more buttons; always so many buttons with his suits. I wasn’t being careful and deliberate as I normally would. I couldn’t. It was all I could do not to rip them open, I wanted to tear at them with my teeth. He noticed, but of course he already knew my control was hanging by a thread.

When I saw he was wearing his black boxers, I smiled inwardly, realizing he had decided before he got dressed this morning that he would have me today. The cotton was so incredibly soft… how I have become addicted to the feel of this material. I brushed my lips and cheek against it as I folded the boxers down. Master was so hard I had to stretch the elastic to get it over him. I worked tenderly, lovingly, offering my deepest respect. When he is free and I can touch him here, it feels so intimate, so connected. I desire nothing, but to be doing exactly what I am doing in those moments. Surely, it is a form of heaven on earth. With everything that was welling within me, I was unable to continue holding myself back, I started to lick and stroke him before he had given his permission.

I use my lips and tongue to work the moistness over his tip and up and down the shaft. As soon as he is slick, I start taking him all the way to the back of my throat. Nice, yes, oh yes… feels so right, so delicate. My hands are on him moving in rhythm with my mouth. Everything below my waist tightens. I spread my knees wider and make myself groan. Then I tilt my head a little a farther and on the next stroke press him deeper into my throat. Then again, swallowing, opening, letting the full length of him fill me. I am inhaling the air off of him, rubbing him, using my whole face, mouth, and throat to deliver his pleasure. I press into the spread of my hips, I know he can smell and sense exactly how wet I’ve become. My chest presses forward, nipples reaching toward him. My hands are working, searching, milking every inch of him for any possible means of gratifying him.

It is bliss, but then he’s taken my hands and at first I’m not sure what’s happening. I fight not to lose the contact between my mouth and his beautiful, long, glorious, pink, swollen member. I realize he is tying my hands to the rail behind me with his tie, so I torque and lift my arms to make it easier for him. I know the tie is silk, so I lean back to wrap my fingers around the rail. This way I can hold myself, without pulling on the tie, which will lessen the wrinkling. Having my arms back shifts my balance, and I have to re-think my approach. I readjust my legs, working carefully because my panties and pants are wrapped around my ankles and I could easily topple myself.

In this moment, I notice how flush I am, hot because of the want raging in me, and hot because my wool coat and pants are still covering almost half my body. Very quickly however, Master’s cock is back down my throat and all thought is receding again, our lust ravaging us both. Everything is so wet and sloppy. I can feel the eyelashes on one eye all stuck together. The messier it gets, the more desirous I feel. I want every inch of him. With his cock choking me, I still want more so I lap at him, stretching as far as my tongue can reach. My pussy convulses and my juices start to drip, I realize they’ll be dripping onto my pants and think, “Doesn’t matter, I’ll handle it… later.”

I pause to steal a glance up, he is staring down at me very intently. “Oh yes, I am looking at you.” He says. I swoon and then his hands are at the back of my head and he his fucking my throat relentlessly. So hard, I start to really struggle, but now he is coming. I’m trying to swallow around him. He pulls back and the last drops from him spill onto my face. One hand wrapped in my hair, he pulls my head back. With the other, he smears his seed over my face, clearly enjoying it. His smile shines down on me like the second coming.

He unties my hands, and I start the work of cleaning him up. My fingers curve and grip and envelop his skin, his hips, his balls – so gently, so reverently, so purposefully, while my tongue ensures there is not a trace left on him. I can’t help, but start to indulge myself, taking advantage of the free access he’s given me. “One of the things I love about you, you would just keep taking care of me, you really never want to stop.” he states. I know it’s a gentle nudge. I pull his boxers up sucking at the cotton, making sure I pull any stray spill from the fabric, but I still can’t make myself stop entirely.

He pulls me into him lays my cheek against his abdomen holding me with his hands my skin snuggles against the warmth on each cheek the world starts fading back again, I am always so ready to dissolve completely into him. He is talking. I don’t know exactly what he is saying, but I know where it is leading. I don’t want to make him go further than being subtle. I know we are out of time. I know what must be done. I’ve made him indulge me enough. I push myself to get ahead of it, to pull myself back. I focus my eyes and lift my head. Start to stand up, my knees are dimpled and sore, ankles cramped, legs so weak. He pulls me into him before I stagger, into his glorious embrace. I reach up, fingers just barely touching the side of his face. At last, I stop shaking all the world is still, all the world is well.