Page 72
Story: First Time
I whimpered with want as he stepped in closer, filling my vision with his jean-clad legs and the massive bulge between his thighs.
My mouth watered, and I dug my fingernails into my palms to keep from reaching for him. I shifted on my feet, my pulse kicking up a notch as I grew damp between my thighs.
He traced his fingertips down my cheeks, my neck, over the swell of my breasts, my nipples hardening to points.
My entire focus zoomed in on his gentle touch. Every caress over skin that grew needier by the minute. He splayed his hand over my soft belly before mapping upward once more to my shoulder. Down my arm. To my wrist, which he grasped.
“I’m going to use my ropes on you.”
“Yes, Sir,” I willingly agreed, remembering what he could offer me—how I had the power to take what I wanted or shut him down if I grew uncomfortable.
I wouldn’t.
Nothing about Daniel threatened me in any way. He was my safe place. My home.
He led me to the foot of his bed, and in silence, he began wrapping me in a chest harness.
I closed my eyes, submitting to the light touches of his hands and rope, moving with him as he bound my torso. My heavy breasts hung free, but he tied my hands behind me at my lower back without discomfort.
Breaths shallow, I rested, my mind buzzing—alive and yet still at the same time. I sank into the peaceful feeling, yearning for more. His touch.
“Facedown on the bed, sweetness,” he whispered against my ear, the scrape of his scruff sending a shiver down my spine.
I did as told, and he bound my ankles to the backs of my thighs, connecting the ropes to the harness above my hands near the middle of my spine. My inhales remained quiet, although need still throbbed in my core.
Daniel stepped away, and I floated on the edge of reality, barely aware of his movements.
Anticipation a live wire under my skin, I waited for him to string me up to one of the massive hooks he had in his bedroom ceiling. I’d seen the pulley system, just never in action.
A warm palm slid up my shin toward my ankle. Over my limp hands. He grasped the harness, more gentle tugs nudged my body as he once more tied knots.
“I’m going to suspend you,” Daniel said in his rumbling voice, and a moan rose from my chest.
Whispered footsteps sounded—and a slow pull hefted me into the air.
My head hung relaxed, breasts swinging, the harness at my lower back distributing my weight along the loops and knots wrapped around my body. I envisioned the ropes as his hands, holding me, caressing me, and keeping me in his care.
I’d never felt as safe as I did in that moment. Nothing mattered but the bindings around me and the sense of security they offered.
“You look so beautiful,” he said, running his hands along my legs, squeezing and kneading my flesh between the loops cradling my limbs. “I’ve wanted you like this for so long…I don’t know how much longer I can wait.”
“Please...” My whisper sounded from far off, an echoing in the placid quietness Master Cooney had gifted me.
He spun me in the air and stepped between my spread thighs, sliding a finger down through my ass crack, through my swelled labia, to my clit. “You’re exquisite, Becky—how you respond to me. Fucking beautiful.”
I moaned, trying to press into his touch, but couldn’t move. Completely at his mercy, I whimpered, unable to voice my need or even explain how he made me feel.
He fingered around my pussy, barely dipping the tip of his index into me. “So wet,” he murmured. “May I taste you, sweet girl?”
My head hung low—I couldn’t even nod.
Master Cooney grasped my hip bones and lifted me higher to his mouth. His tongue shoved into my pussy, curling and lapping, his growl of appreciation creating more wetness for him to taste. Arousal, thick and heady, ruled my thoughts. My body. I existed for my Sir’s pleasure, nothing else. No memories of the past, trauma, or unhappiness dragged me downward into a spiral. I floated in the air. Desire. On the edge of euphoria.
My core throbbed, and every groan against my pussy lips amped my pulse even as my mind traveled to an even deeper place of rest.
Sir’s strong hands lowered me until I was once more suspended by his loving ropes alone. He crowded in close, rubbing the tip of his cock all over my lower lips. “May I have you, Becky?”
I managed to find my voice but could only hum approval. My tongue refused to form words.
My mouth watered, and I dug my fingernails into my palms to keep from reaching for him. I shifted on my feet, my pulse kicking up a notch as I grew damp between my thighs.
He traced his fingertips down my cheeks, my neck, over the swell of my breasts, my nipples hardening to points.
My entire focus zoomed in on his gentle touch. Every caress over skin that grew needier by the minute. He splayed his hand over my soft belly before mapping upward once more to my shoulder. Down my arm. To my wrist, which he grasped.
“I’m going to use my ropes on you.”
“Yes, Sir,” I willingly agreed, remembering what he could offer me—how I had the power to take what I wanted or shut him down if I grew uncomfortable.
I wouldn’t.
Nothing about Daniel threatened me in any way. He was my safe place. My home.
He led me to the foot of his bed, and in silence, he began wrapping me in a chest harness.
I closed my eyes, submitting to the light touches of his hands and rope, moving with him as he bound my torso. My heavy breasts hung free, but he tied my hands behind me at my lower back without discomfort.
Breaths shallow, I rested, my mind buzzing—alive and yet still at the same time. I sank into the peaceful feeling, yearning for more. His touch.
“Facedown on the bed, sweetness,” he whispered against my ear, the scrape of his scruff sending a shiver down my spine.
I did as told, and he bound my ankles to the backs of my thighs, connecting the ropes to the harness above my hands near the middle of my spine. My inhales remained quiet, although need still throbbed in my core.
Daniel stepped away, and I floated on the edge of reality, barely aware of his movements.
Anticipation a live wire under my skin, I waited for him to string me up to one of the massive hooks he had in his bedroom ceiling. I’d seen the pulley system, just never in action.
A warm palm slid up my shin toward my ankle. Over my limp hands. He grasped the harness, more gentle tugs nudged my body as he once more tied knots.
“I’m going to suspend you,” Daniel said in his rumbling voice, and a moan rose from my chest.
Whispered footsteps sounded—and a slow pull hefted me into the air.
My head hung relaxed, breasts swinging, the harness at my lower back distributing my weight along the loops and knots wrapped around my body. I envisioned the ropes as his hands, holding me, caressing me, and keeping me in his care.
I’d never felt as safe as I did in that moment. Nothing mattered but the bindings around me and the sense of security they offered.
“You look so beautiful,” he said, running his hands along my legs, squeezing and kneading my flesh between the loops cradling my limbs. “I’ve wanted you like this for so long…I don’t know how much longer I can wait.”
“Please...” My whisper sounded from far off, an echoing in the placid quietness Master Cooney had gifted me.
He spun me in the air and stepped between my spread thighs, sliding a finger down through my ass crack, through my swelled labia, to my clit. “You’re exquisite, Becky—how you respond to me. Fucking beautiful.”
I moaned, trying to press into his touch, but couldn’t move. Completely at his mercy, I whimpered, unable to voice my need or even explain how he made me feel.
He fingered around my pussy, barely dipping the tip of his index into me. “So wet,” he murmured. “May I taste you, sweet girl?”
My head hung low—I couldn’t even nod.
Master Cooney grasped my hip bones and lifted me higher to his mouth. His tongue shoved into my pussy, curling and lapping, his growl of appreciation creating more wetness for him to taste. Arousal, thick and heady, ruled my thoughts. My body. I existed for my Sir’s pleasure, nothing else. No memories of the past, trauma, or unhappiness dragged me downward into a spiral. I floated in the air. Desire. On the edge of euphoria.
My core throbbed, and every groan against my pussy lips amped my pulse even as my mind traveled to an even deeper place of rest.
Sir’s strong hands lowered me until I was once more suspended by his loving ropes alone. He crowded in close, rubbing the tip of his cock all over my lower lips. “May I have you, Becky?”
I managed to find my voice but could only hum approval. My tongue refused to form words.
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