He had her tied like a bundle of cotton on a truck. She was pinned on his coffee table. The windows were open, and the spring air washed over her body, lapping in waves across her neck, ribs, hips, thighs. Outside, birds twittered and, occasionally, people walking on the sidewalk below could be heard, talking. She could not move a muscle, except to breathe. The ball gag kept her jaws spread and tight. Her hands were tied behind her head. Her ankles were tied to the table legs. Her breasts were bound. A rope held her stomach and hips in place. Her pussy was an open mouth, the gaping mouth of a hungry fledgling, waiting to be fed. It was the mouth of a flowing river, waiting to cascade over him.
The sharp sting of the crop on her breasts and inner thighs had left her groaning and breathless and aching. She was quivering flesh, wanton flesh, flesh wanting to be devoured. She was meat, his meat, bloody and soft and salted. She could not see him, but she knew he was there. She could barely feel his soft breath on her clit as he breathed the aroma of her into his animal nostrils. A pool of her essence spread across the table top below her opening. It soaked into the fibers of wood and became a testament to her torture.
He placed the tip of his cock against the soft, hungry, opening to her. It was all he could do to keep it in that place, without pushing forward, without satisfying the ultimate urge. She held her breath, waiting for that buzzing nervous explosion that would surge through her body when he entered. But, he didn’t. The perfect end of him rested there, nestled in her labia, unmoving. Maddeningly, unmoving. Excruciatingly, unmoving. He held himself steady, just outside of her. She wanted to press down, to envelope him, suck him into her. She couldn’t move. It was up to him. He would feed her as he wished. His thumbs pressed into her labia, massaging her, moving her, making her swell.
Every nerve ending inside of her sparked and sizzled as the head of his muscle stick slid like thick lava just inside of her. The fledgling mouth snapped around him, wanting to swallow him whole. He held her there, his hips resisting the urge to plow into her with all of his force. She moaned and rocked her head from side to side. Saliva spilled down the sides of her cheeks. Fireworks went off in her brain. Her fingers were spread, then clenched, as she gripped the air with each spasm of her pussy. He slapped her breasts from side to side, then pinched her nipples hard, never giving her his length. His thumbs worked her clit until she screamed past the gag, the veins standing hard in her arched neck. The muscles inside of her felt as if they were tearing apart, as orgasm wracked her, tossing her against the inner walls of her own body. When, she finally regained her breath and her toes uncurled, he pressed his hands into her abdomen and slammed into her. She passed out.