Instantly, he put his arms around me and pulled me tighter to him, his tongue sliding into my mouth and slipping sensuously against mine. I could feel my pussy getting wet already. The realisation that it would be the last time we’d have sex made it even hotter, somehow. I knew I was going to go all out and end our relationship with a bang. A fuck we’d never forget.
Pulling away, I stood up. I took Ethan’s hand and he followed me wordlessly into the bedroom. Closing the door behind us, I turned to face him. He’d already got onto the bed and was lying down, stroking his cock through his jeans and wearing a cocky grin.
“Uh-uh,” I said, wagging a finger at him. “Get up. Then strip. Tonight, we’re trying something new.”
Obviously a little surprised at my bossy tone, Ethan frowned, a little crease appearing between his eyebrows. Even when he was pulling faces, he looked gorgeous. I sighed.
“Now.”
Realising I wasn’t joking, this time Ethan did as I asked. Still a little unsure, he sauntered towards me and started to undress in what I suppose he thought was a sexy fashion. I fixed him with a glare.
“I haven’t got all night, Ethan.”
Finally, the penny dropped. Understanding the new game at last, Ethan dropped his arrogant behaviour and removed the rest of his clothes at speed. As the last garment landed on his pile of discarded clothes, I spoke again.
“Get the chair. Put it in the middle of the floor, facing me. Then sit on it.”
This time Ethan didn’t need telling twice. I had no idea what he thought about this new dominant persona of mine, but it was clearly turning him on. His cock jutted proudly out of his pubic hair; pre-come already beading at its tip.
He sat on the chair and looked at me expectantly, awaiting my next move. I walked to where I’d placed my overnight bag and began rummaging inside. When I pulled my hand out with a pair of handcuffs dangling from my fingertip, Ethan grinned from ear to ear. Walking over to him, I made short work of cuffing him to the chair. I smiled as he pointlessly rattled his restraints. He wasn’t going anywhere. Not without the chair, anyway.
“Ooh, you got me all trussed up baby. What are you gonna do now? Are you going to strip for me?”
Again with the talking. With that, Ethan decided my next step for me. Popping the handcuff key down on the bedside table, I reached into my bag again and brought out a strip of material. Pulling it taut between my hands, I moved back over to my captive. Getting the wrong idea, Ethan said,
“Aww, so I don’t even get to see you naked, baby? Now that’s just-”
I put the material between his lips and tied it around the back of his head before he had chance to finish his sentence. Blindfold, indeed! Why would I hide his eyes when they are the window to the soul; the very place I’d look for his reactions to what I was about to do to him?
They proved a point there and then as they widened when he realised I’d rendered him completely helpless. The cuffing he’d obviously found kinky, but taking his power of speech away? He was unsure, but not turned off. His erection was still very much there, and I was looking forward to sinking onto it. Especially now he was quiet.
I took off my clothes without further ado, then made a final visit to my overnight bag. This time I retrieved a condom and walked back to Ethan, unwrapping it as I went. Kneeling between his legs, I grasped his thick cock and began to masturbate him, slowly. He closed his eyes and moaned into the gag, his shaft twitching beneath my fingers. I loved the feel of it in my hand, velvety warmth surrounding a core of steel.
Ethan was clearly enjoying himself too, as the amount of pre-come gathering at the tip of his bell-end was increasing rapidly. I bent and closed my mouth over his glans, swirling my tongue up and over, just enough to lick up all the sticky fluid and have him thrust his hips at me.
Before he got too excited, I slid my mouth off Ethan’s cock with a ‘pop,’ then rolled the rubber onto it. Standing, I straddled him, hooking my feet around the back of the chair for leverage. Then I sat back and proceeded to be a complete and utter tease. I grabbed his dick and slid it up and down my wet slit, his meaty cock head dipping into my soaking wet folds just a little.
His muffled moans were getting me really hot. My clit was swollen and sensitive, and I knew I’d climax without too much trouble. Remembering how much it turned Ethan on when I came, I held his shaft still and rocked my hips against it, stroking my clit over and over until I felt the tell-tale signs of my orgasm approach.
Picking up the pace, I pushed harder against Ethan’s cock, needing that extra pressure to get me off. Then: it happened. I hit my plateau and after a couple of seconds, suspended, I plunged off it. I gasped and moaned my release, my cunt greedily grabbing at thin air as it spasmed.
I looked into Ethan’s eyes the entire time. They widened as I started to come, and he strained at his bonds as I thrashed and moaned on his lap. He soon stopped when I quickly manoeuvred myself up and fed his cock into my still-quivering pussy. I was so wet that it slid in up to the hilt with little resistance, despite his impressive girth. I gave myself a couple of seconds to savour the sensation, then started to bounce up and down, riding his cock like there was no tomorrow.
Probably because there wasn’t; not for us.
I loved the feeling of total control I got, having Ethan bound to the chair; silent. Even if I was on top, he’d usually be doing something to alter the pace to his own preference, be it pulling my hips harder to his, or thrusting up at me. But not this time. As well as being cuffed, my weight was pinning him down, so the pace was mine to pick. And boy, did I pick it.
I fucked Ethan hard until I sensed he was getting close to orgasm then I slowed down until I was barely moving. I did this two or three times, having no intention of letting him come until I was good and ready. And you know the best thing about it? He couldn’t utter a damn word of complaint. Sure, he was making some noises and mumbling into the gag, but as I couldn’t hear or understand a single word of it, I pleased myself.
Soon, though, I knew I had to finish it. My legs were growing wobbly with exertion and my clit was so rigid it almost hurt. I needed - and wanted - to come again.
Looking Ethan straight in the eye, I said “Ready baby?”
He nodded, but without waiting for an answer, I’d already started bobbing up and down on him again. Gritting my teeth, I rode Ethan’s cock rough and fast, my hands gripping the back of the chair so hard that my knuckles went white. I felt the slow burn of my orgasm start to build again. I leaned forward slightly, mashing my clit against Ethan’s pubic bone with each movement.
Soon, the burn turned into a full flame and my pussy flexed and squeezed Ethan’s cock as my orgasm crashed throughout my body. Unable to hold out any longer, a series of strangled noises came from Ethan’s mouth as he hit his own peak, his shaft leaping inside of me as he spurted his release into the condom.
I slumped onto him, completely exhausted. We were still and silent for a while until Ethan wriggled, my dead weight obviously making him uncomfortable. I sighed, saddened to end the fantasy; a silent Ethan.
Slowly I got up. Retrieving the key for the cuffs, I released Ethan and left him to sort out the gag himself. By the time he’d untied it and disposed of the condom, I was already in bed, feigning sleep. A brighter guy would have known I was faking it; but not Ethan. Sated and therefore happy, he snuggled into bed beside me and soon we were both asleep for real.
The following morning I woke up before him, as usual. Slipping out of bed quietly, I dressed, then grabbed all my stuff. Pulling an envelope out of my bag, I gazed at the perfection that was a silent, sleeping Ethan for a minute or two, then put it on the pillow I’d vacated. I knew it was wrong to dump someone by letter, but ending a relationship is never easy, however you do it.
I’d decided to split up with my trophy boyfriend the best way I knew how. In silence. Wit
hout exchanging a word, the end of our relationship would not be sullied by words. Our last shared memory would be the most amazing fuck of our lives (so far), rather than bitter words and meaningless explanations.
And it doesn’t get much better than that, does it?
On The Prowl
Jolene pursed her lips, then grinned at her reflection in the mirror. She looked good. Wild, curly hair, make-up that made her eyes look huge and shiny red lips. Combined with her sassy outfit, she knew she would knock ‘em dead tonight.
Providing, of course, that there was someone to knock dead. There was a serious man drought in Jolene’s town which was why she was having to actively seek them out. She wanted some action, and she wanted it now.
To avoid any complications Jolene was going out alone, but under the pretence that she was meeting a friend. That way if she got lucky she could reap the rewards immediately, rather than having to worry about getting her friend a man, or sending her home. Her plan was perfect - providing she could find a hot guy.
With a final squirt of perfume and glance in the mirror, Jolene was gone. She made her way out to the taxi she’d ordered, which was idling outside her house. Giving her destination, she hopped in. God, she needed this. Regardless of whether she pulled or not, Jolene desperately needed to go out and let her hair down. It had been a while.
Ten or so minutes later, the taxi drew up outside the bar Jolene had asked to be taken to. She rummaged around in her bag for her purse, passed the driver a note and told him to keep the change. Then she headed inside.
A casual glance around the bar told Jolene she might just be in luck tonight. There were quite a few suitable guys around, which was good. But what was even better was the lack of women. Less competition. She sauntered over to the bar, aware of how her ass would be wiggling in her skin tight jeans, every step accentuated by the sky scraper heels she wore.
After ordering and receiving her drink, Jolene turned her back to the bar and leant on it. From here she had a good view of the establishment and she could scope out where the best place would be to position herself. Appearing to an onlooker like she was simply sipping a drink as she waited for someone, Jolene was actually scouring the room for tonight’s victim. She discounted a large group of guys in the corner - there were too many of them and they’d be too busy taking the piss out of one another and showing off to realise she was serious about wanting to get laid.
Finally, she hit the jackpot. She’d spotted a guy standing on his own, looking decidedly uncomfortable. Jolene thought perhaps he’d been stood up. Poor fella, perhaps I can make him feel better. She smiled, pushed away from the bar and walked over whilst checking him out. After all, she didn’t want to get there and realise she’d made a big mistake, did she? Nope, from where she was standing, everything was just fine with this one. Nice dress sense, good looking, no wedding ring. What could go wrong?
He wasn’t looking in her direction as she approached and he looked startled when she appeared at his side. She noticed his gaze flit across the room in the opposite direction from where she’d just come, and bristled slightly. Why is he looking over there when I’ve just come to say hello? Please tell me his girlfriend isn’t here! Just as she was about to mumble some excuse about thinking he was someone else, someone joined them. Another guy.
‘Alright mate,’ said the newcomer, slipping a mobile phone back into his pocket, ‘sorry about that, work had an emergency. Who’s your friend then?’
Jolene answered the question, ‘Sorry, I thought your friend was on his own. I was just coming over to say hi. I didn’t mean to interrupt.’
Making to retreat back to the safety of the bar, the second guy put his hand on her arm.
‘It’s OK, stay and chat to us. Brighten up our evening. It’s not exactly excitement central in here, is it?’
He laughed, showing off a lovely smile and a cheeky twinkle in his blue eyes. He tipped a nod to his friend.
‘This is Pete, and I’m Blake.’
Jolene took the proffered hand and shook it, introducing herself. Then she shook hands with Pete. Taking a swallow of her drink, she surveyed the two guys. She wouldn’t mind either of them, actually. Blake was tall, broad and had dark spiky hair and the aforementioned sexy smile and eyes. Pete was slightly shorter than his friend, but still much taller than Jolene, even in her heels. He had sandy hair, a shy smile with a cute dimple in his cheek, intelligent green eyes and an athletic frame.
‘Can I get anyone a drink?’ she queried after draining her glass, ‘I’m going to get one.’
‘No, no,’ said Blake, ‘these are on me. A lady never buys a drink when I’m around. What are you having?’
He took everyone’s order and headed towards the bar. Jolene turned to watch him go, studying his jeans and how they clung to what looked like a firm, muscular ass and thighs. She mentally undressed him and imagined how he would perform in the bedroom. If his technique matched his personality, and her first impressions were correct, he’d be confident, strong and rough.
Quite the reverse of his friend, whom she guessed would be quiet, attentive and skilful. Her neglected libido sent her imagination into overdrive as she envisioned Blake, pounding hard between her thighs whilst nipping and sucking at her nipples; then morphed the image into one of Pete. He’d be pistoning his narrow hips up and down, rubbing her g-spot into submission, a look of concentration; then satisfaction on his face as he felt Jolene’s juices gushing out over his cock.
She jiggled from foot to foot as she felt the crotch of her thong becoming wet. She’d been so lost in reverie that she hadn’t realised that Pete had been trying to get her attention.
‘Jolene, are you OK?’
‘Shit, sorry. I’m fine, I was just looking for my friend. She was supposed to meet me here half an hour ago and still hasn’t turned up. It’s not like her to be late. Do you mind if I try to call her?’
‘No, of course not. I’ll wait here for Blake, you go and check she’s OK.’
Jolene flashed him a grin, and, playing the game, fished her mobile phone from her bag and headed to the door so she could try and ‘call her friend’ where it wasn’t so noisy. Feeling a little stupid, she flicked her phone onto silent mode to avoid any embarrassment should anyone decide to ring her whilst she was pretending to be on the phone.
A couple of minutes and a fabricated phone call later, Jolene went back inside. Blake and Pete were standing where she’d left them. Blake was holding two drinks.
‘Hi,’ she smiled, taking her drink from Blake, ‘thanks for this. I need it.’ She took a big swallow.
‘Why?’ enquired Blake, ‘is something the matter?’
‘I just called my friend to see where she was and turns out she’s not coming. Her boyfriend isn’t very well, so she’s staying in with him. She reckons she sent me a text message to let me know, but I didn’t get it. Bloody technology!’
Jolene rolled her eyes and threw her phone back into her bag. ‘Sorry Blake, that was rude. Thank you for my drink.’
‘No problem. Sorry to hear about your friend. You’re not leaving are you? Why don’t you stay and hang out with us?’
Wow, Jolene thought, this is turning out to be easier than I thought!
‘Well, as long as you don’t mind me intruding on your lads’ night out!’
‘Nahhh,’ said Blake, ‘we don’t mind, do we Pete?’ He nudged his friend.
‘No, of course not. If you want to stay, you’re very welcome.’
‘OK,’ said Jolene, ‘don’t mind if I do. Cheers.’ She raised her glass to the boys, and smiled.
‘So,’ said Blake, ‘what about you? Have you got a boyfriend to go home to?’
‘No, not me. Young, free and single, me. How about you two? Any ladies?’
It turned out that both guys were single and had been for a while. They liv
ed together and had come out that night because they’d realised they were spending far too much time in their house playing on the Xbox 360.
The cogs in Jolene’s brain began turning. She thought both of the guys were sexy and was having trouble choosing between them. But since they lived together, perhaps she wouldn’t have to. Maybe she could get away with having both, and if she was really lucky, at the same time. If she played her cards right, she could be getting the seeing-to of her life!
She carried on chatting and flirting with both Blake and Pete, who became more talkative when he’d had a couple of drinks. Jolene was pretty sure that both guys were into her and thought she’d turn up the heat a little. As soon as a sexy song began, she jumped excitedly and yelled,
‘I love this one! Who wants to dance with me?’
Predictably, Blake jumped at the chance and she took his hand and led him to the dance floor. The heavy beat reverberated through the floor and Jolene put Blake’s hands on her hips as she swayed. She moved suggestively, skimming her hands over her body, but Blake remained relatively chaste, his hands stayed where she’d put them. OK, she thought, I’ll have to be a little more obvious then.
Jolene spun round so her back was to Blake and snuggled in close, pulling his arms around her body. They were melded together and she could feel his hard body against her, and, if she wasn’t mistaken, something else stirring against her ass cheeks. She looked up and saw that Pete was watching them intently. She winked and beckoned him over. He looked hesitant, but then downed his drink, put the glass down on a nearby table and came over.
Not missing a trick, Jolene took hold of Pete’s hands and pulled him in close so she was sandwiched between him and Blake. Closing her eyes, she moved to the beat and relished the feel of two men’s hands on her body, and two growing erections pressing into her flesh.
If the men were bothered by her suggestive behaviour, they didn’t show it. The three of them bounced to the music, bodies bumping and grinding against one another, hands groping and squeezing. The guys had obviously realised that a threesome was on the cards, and Blake’s hands had dipped between Jolene’s legs and were caressing her pussy through the fabric of her skirt. Meanwhile, Pete was busying himself with her breasts.
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