Page 54 of The Diamond Thief

“Perhaps,” she says again.

Oh, she’s saucy. I’m about to reach around to slip fingers inside that newly exposed pussy.

But I realize something critical.

I can’t.

My wrists are bound together behind me.

I twist and glance down. The black panties. They are not lace at all, but something strong and wiry. I run through my usual moves to be able to free my hands from bondage. No go.

“Well done,” I say.

“What was that you were saying about not wanting to take advantage of me as your prisoner?” She unfastens my belt and slides it slowly from the loops.

“I try to be a man of honor.”

“Hmmmm,” she says. “Sadly, I don’t think I’m going to return the favor.”

She forms a loop with the belt and whips it through the air. It makes a sharp snap. It’s a most promising sound.

“What was it you said last time?” She unfastens my waistband and opens the fly wide. “Please yourself just until orgasm?”

“I believe those were the instructions.”

She wraps her hands around my turgid cock, and I have to hold back the groan.

“Luckily, on a man, I can force the issue.” She takes my perfectly tooled, Italian leather belt, supple and flexible, and wraps it around the base of my cock. She takes her measurement, then uses the point of the clasp to poke a new hole that just fits the circumference needed.

She wraps it around my raging erection again, this time fastening it down until she is certain it is sufficiently snug.

“I would ask you if you like this, but honestly, I don’t give a shit.” She climbs onto my lap, just hovering over the tip of my cock.

I let out a long exhale. This is torture, the best kind.

She removes her bra. One breast, and then the other, press into my face for attention. I give it to her, taking each nipple in my mouth.

“Yes,” she says. “My way.”

She pushes me onto my back, forcing me to arch over my bound wrists. I do not complain.

She slides up on the bed until that warm wet pussy greets my mouth.

“Right there,” she says.

I give her a long, hard lick, and she shifts over me, pressing me where she wants my tongue to go. I’m just a machine to her now, as she makes all the moves, up and down and forward and back.

Her breathing increases, and I work her harder, feeling the muscles tightening around my face. I’m worn out, and it’s difficult to breathe, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.

She shudders above me, her thighs pressed against my cheeks. She holds still, letting out a long guttural moan.

I lick her more gently, waiting to see what direction she’ll go next.

She rests a moment, braced on her forearms. I tilt my chin and see her glorious breasts hovering over the bed.

I keep working on the bindings, but it isn’t easy to figure them out while she crushes me on the bed.

She lifts then, sliding back down, leaving a wet trail on my chest and belly. She nips her way along my body, her hands running along my chest and the length of my abs.