I bound her up into a small, tight little ball. Very compact. But you have to know this, there was a great deal of pussy licking, face fucking and all around fetish foreplay before I even got busy tying her into this small little package. But once I did she was mine. Lying her on her side her profile was that of a circle. She was completely immobile. If she wanted to be rolled over onto the other side she needed my assistance. She wasn’t going to be able to do anything without my help. So after I tied her I picked her up off the floor and laid her on the bed. I left the room and went into my office. I recall my cock was like a rigid pole as I passed through the atrium on my way down the hall. When I sat down in my chair I couldn’t take my hand off my cock. I started to really get turned on by the fact that she was sick. Feeling ill, yet she was still willing to get tied up and left. Left to suffer for me. I thought about shoving my cock in her mouth while she was wanting to instead ingest cough syrup. That she was in there suffering. What time was it now? I’m starting to think to myself, how long has she been in there? 45 minutes? Immobile. Waiting.
Backtrack about one hour. It is a Saturday morning so we decide to go get breakfast. But before either of us has even left the bedroom her pussy is soaked and my cock is unrelenting. She keeps asking me to fuck her but I’m ready for breakfast. My logic was that I really wanted some good, involved sex –after breakfast– versus a quickie. So I hold fast. At the restaurant I ask her to show me her tits and she does. And in fact, the sexual energy is so intense that I wouldn’t have been able to leave my seat even if I’d wanted too. Many times I had to readjust my cock.
I was in my office when I heard her call out like a lamb. I went down to see what she wanted. To piss. To urinate. I was way too horny –and ready to fuck her right then. But no, that wasn’t to be. She needed to pee right then so I released her -which took some few minutes. And when she returned she just wanted to nap. So I left her. But not before agreeing on a hand job schedule. She had something to do later and would have to leave soon. She told me to wake her up at three, thirty minutes early so she could give me a hand job before she left. And when I went in for that hand job it turned into an hour hand job. I came twice in succession, something very rare for me. While she was stroking me, before shooting my wad, I was telling her what I found most pleasurable about her, her predicament and her suffering that I had placed her in earlier that day. And then, she just keeps stroking me after I cum. And then she tells me of her own dirty little thoughts. About how she’d like to have this unrelenting line of men waiting to get hand jobs. How she would get each one off and yell “Next!” And now my cock is getting hard again and suddenly I blow my load. It’s almost like the shootout at the O.K. Corral. I’m actually getting distracted by the sound of semen whizzing past my ears as it ricochets off the headboard. One got me in the eye and at least a cup got all over my shirt.
I don’t get it. Sometimes she swallows it, sometimes she eats it and sometimes, I guess sometimes she just likes to see me wear it.