Chapter 10: Bondage Countdown
The weight of him was a comfort, a solid warmth pressing her into the mattress. For long minutes, there was only the sound of their ragged breathing slowing, the distant jazz now a lazy, meandering trumpet solo. Larry’s softening cock slipped from her body with a soft, wet sound, and a trickle of his release followed, a warm reminder of the violation that still made her inner muscles clench with aftershock.
He rolled off her, his body collapsing onto the sheets beside her. “My god, Nancy,” he breathed, staring at the ceiling. “What… what was that?”
She turned her head on the pillow, a slow, cat-like smile spreading across her face. The sweet-natured lawyer was gone, replaced by something older, hungrier. “That was me not being your sweet old friend for one night.” She pushed herself up onto her elbows, her eyes scanning the room. They landed on the two silk ties of his tuxedo, draped neatly over the back of a chair where he’d left them hours ago, a lifetime ago.
“Sixty minutes,” she said, her voice low and purposeful.
Larry looked at her, confusion clouding his sated expression. “What?”
“You heard me.” She swung her legs off the bed, her body moving with a newfound, predatory grace. She padded over to the chair, picking up the dark, slick silk of the ties. She ran them through her fingers. “The night’s not over. I paid for this suite. I orchestrated this… reunion. And I have sixty more minutes of you before we have to put our masks back on and go back to our lives.”
She came back to the bed, standing over him. He looked up at her, a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, but beneath that, a dark, eager curiosity. He was always susceptible to being picked up, she remembered. He just never expected it from her.
“Give me your wrists,” she commanded, her tone leaving no room for argument.
He hesitated for only a second before lifting his arms, offering his hands to her. She leaned over, her breasts brushing his chest, and wrapped one silk tie around his left wrist, pulling it tight before looping it around the ornate wrought-iron bedpost. She did the same with his right, knotting them with a secure, practiced efficiency that belied her prim exterior. He was spread-eagled, vulnerable, completely at her mercy.
“Nancy…” he started, a question in his voice.
“Shhh,” she whispered, crawling onto the bed to straddle his hips. “You don’t get to talk. You just get to feel.” She reached for her purse on the nightstand, pulling out a small, sleek, black vibrator. She clicked it on. A low, insistent hum filled the space between them.
She positioned herself over him, her back to his face, lowering herself until the head of his cock, already hardening again under her gaze, pressed against her entrance. She was still wet, still loose from their previous fucking, but her asshole, used and tender, throbbed with a separate, secret ache.
“You liked being in my ass, didn’t you?” she asked, not looking back at him as she guided him inside her cunt. It was a different kind of fullness, warmer, wetter, accepting him easily.
“Yes,” he groaned, his hips twitching upwards, a movement restricted by the ties.
“I know you did. I felt you lose your mind in there.” She began to move, rising and falling on him in a slow, deliberate rhythm. Reverse cowgirl. She could watch his cock disappear into her body, see the tension coiling in his stomach, observe every helpless reaction he had. She brought the vibrator to her clit, now swollen and hypersensitive. The second the buzzing head made contact, she gasped, her rhythm stuttering.
“Fuck, that’s good,” she moaned, arching her back. The dual sensations were overwhelming—the deep, filling stretch of his cock and the targeted, electric buzz on her most sensitive nerve. She worked herself on him, her movements becoming more frantic, more selfish. This was for her. All of it.
She could feel him getting closer, his breath coming in sharp pants, his muscles tightening. “Nancy… I’m gonna…”
“No, you’re not,” she snapped, stopping all movement instantly. She lifted herself completely off him, his cock springing free, slick and angry red. The vibrator still hummed against her clit, and she bit her lip, riding the edge of her own orgasm but refusing to let it take her. Not yet.
Larry cried out in frustration, pulling against the silk ties. “Jesus Christ!”
“That’s one,” she said calmly, a sheen of sweat making her skin glow in the dim light. She waited, watching the desperate throb of his cock, seeing the agony of denied release on his face. After a long moment, she lowered herself onto him again, taking him back inside her with a slow, torturous slide.
She built the pace again, faster this time, the slapping sound of their flesh mixing with the buzz of the toy. She was close, so close, the pressure building at the base of her spine. She felt his body begin to tense again, his warning grunt forming in his throat.
She stopped again. Frozen.
“Goddamn it, Nancy!” he roared, straining against his bonds, his body shaking with the effort to hold back.
“Two,” she panted, her own body trembling with the effort of control. She was playing with fire, edging them both, and the power was an intoxicant. She looked over her shoulder, meeting his wild, desperate eyes. “You want to come, Larry? You want to pump that load into me?”
“Yes! Please, fuck, yes.”
“Where do you want to come?” she demanded, rotating her hips just enough to make him groan.
“In your ass,” he gritted out, the filthiness of the words seeming to shock even him. “I want to come in your tight ass again.”
She smiled, a victorious, feral thing. “Then you’ll wait for it.”
The third time she mounted him, there was no pretense of slow seduction. It was a brutal, punishing rhythm, her body slamming down on his, the vibrator a constant, maddening drone on her clit. She was chanting, “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” her world narrowing to the point of contact between her body and his, between the toy and her nerve endings.
She felt his orgasm begin, a deep, unstoppable tremor that started in his core. This time, she didn’t stop. “Now!” she screamed. “Come for me, Larry! Now!”
As his release erupted inside her, hot and pulsing, she ripped the vibrator away from her clit, scrambled off his still-spurting cock, and spun around on her hands and knees. She didn’t even need the lube this time; she was soaked from her own arousal and his come. She guided his slick, throbbing cock to her other hole, the one he’d just been tongue-fucking, and impaled herself on it in one brutal, claiming motion.
The scream that tore from her throat was one of pure, unadulterated triumph. He was still coming, his climax hijacked, his seed now flooding a different, darker channel. She rode out the last pulses of his orgasm, milking him dry into her ass, her own body convulsing around the invasion as a final, searing climax ripped through her.
She collapsed forward, her body draping over his, his still-hard cock lodged deep inside her. The silk ties held him fast. The vibrator fell from her limp hand, its buzz fading to a dull whir against the sheets. The only sound was their shattered breathing, and the faint, relentless beat of the music from another world, a world that no longer existed for either of them.