by KC Martin
“Stay with me, Ava. Trust me,” he whispers again as his lips rove past my ear. “I would never hurt you, I promise. I may not want to change, but you do. You’ve changed me, now let me change you.”
His left hand palms my right tit. He tugs at the vee of my blouse, popping the remaining buttons as he slides toward my belly and then back up. He pinches my erect nipple and I whimper.
His lips slide down my collar bone, across the round flesh of my tit, until his mouth wraps around my nipple. He sucks hard, and then I feel his teeth. I whimper again but it comes out more like a moan. I feel myself tipping back now that Logan has moved further down my body. I’m going to fall backwards over the chair without the use of my arms. The leather is biting into my wrists as I instinctively try to writhe free. I want to wrap my arms around him. I want to hold myself up. I want to feel some sense of control. But I have none right now.
His mouth takes hold of my other nipple. His hands slide up my back to give me more support.
“Relax. You’re so tense.”
“I can’t…”
“Yes, you can.”
I’ve not forgotten that we’re in his office, where we’re supposed to pretend to be interacting academically, pretend that he’s tutoring me, teaching me. Maybe he is…
I allow myself to trust him, at least for right now. We’re at an edge we’ve never been to before, and we are quickly slipping over. Into what I’m not sure, but now I have to find out.
He kisses his way up my chest to my neck, my jawline, until he reaches my lips. He hasn’t kissed my lips yet and I want him to. I want his hot mouth to claim mine. An intensity of damp heat flares between my legs and I feel an urge to squirm, to draw his hips toward me again. I want him so bad right now.
Instead of kissing me he breathes words into my mouth, “I’m not going to let you go, Ava, but I want you to let go of everything you know yourself to be and just feel.”
“What are you going to do?” I whisper, still a little afraid of his mood but too aroused to want to fight or flee anymore.
“I’m going to change you irrevocably. Like you changed me.”
He pulls away from me then and walks toward his desk. I sit precariously on the arm of the chair, wobbly and woozy with arousal. I don’t like his words, but he’s right, words are different than actions. I don’t care about the words anymore, only about the desire he’s acting out, which is different from times before. He’s still angry, I can tell, and he wants to take it out on me, I can tell that too, but he seems to know he’s driven by all that, and he wants me to trust him with all of this, with myself, with my ability to receive all that he has to offer, even his anger and pain.
“Can you take this off?” I gesture with my shoulders to indicate my bound wrists.
He shakes his head as he pulls a silk bag with a drawstring cord from his desk drawer. It’s about the size of a tissue box, but soft-sided and containing several items, none of which can be seen through the navy silk. He pulls a strip of fabric out of the bag. It, too, seems to be made of silk. He leaves the bag on the edge of his desk and returns to me.
“We’re not taking anything off,” he says. “We’re putting something else on.”
He wraps the strip of silk around my eyes.
“Logan, I don’t think I…”
“Shhh, I don’t want you to think at all,” he says.
The silk feels cool against my eyelids. He knots it tightly around the back of my head.
“But why….?”
“You create visual work with the eyes for the eyes. They are your primary tool of perception. Let go of that for now. Just relax…”
I’m sitting with my arms tied behind my back, a blindfold over my eyes, and my blouse hanging wide open. I still have on my skirt and shoes, though I feel Logan at my feet now, taking my shoes off. I’m nervous about being in his office. I remind myself that the door’s locked. After lifting and removing each shoe, he slides a hand up each leg, pushing up my skirt as he goes, until he reaches my panties, which he unceremoniously tugs off.
“Let’s get rid of this, too,” he says. He undoes the hook and eye fastener at the side of my skirt. He pulls me up to standing to let the skirt fall to the floor and then pushes me back down against the chair.
He plants each foot wider apart than they were before. With my panties and skirt gone, I’m feeling very exposed, and splayed.
“Logan?” He’s not touching me now, and I can’t see him.
“I’m here, baby. Just looking at you. You look gorgeous. I could eat you up.”
Quite suddenly I feel his tongue on my clit and I jolt. His hands press down against my thighs.
“Shhhh,” he hisses into my pussy. The cool air mixed with his hot tongue creates a delightful sensation. But I am at his mercy. Sightless, my arms unusable, I only have my feet on the ground to keep me stable, but with each lick and probe of his tongue even that little bit of stability is beginning to wobble. Then he picks up one of my legs and wraps it around his neck and over his back.
“Logan, I…”
“Let go, Ava.”
I try to, and it’s not as hard as I thought as he devours me like a thirsty traveler who’s found an oasis in a desert. I want to rock my pelvis toward his jaw but I can’t really move, and because of my position, he doesn’t have access to my opening, only my labia and clit, which he is sucking like he wants to swallow me whole. My whole body trembles with ticklish pleasure. The thought at the back of my mind — what about the chair? What if I stain it? — doesn’t cohere into a complete thought. I have let go…
Logan changes from sucking to flicking my engorged clit and I feel as if I could come right now. I’m panting and whimpering with anticipated release. With my leg around his neck I attempt to draw him closer, press him harder into me, as my orgasm builds. He stops suddenly, moves my leg aside, and “disappears” from my senses.
“Enough,” I hear him say. I’m confused, and rattled by the intensity of my orgasmic build. Is that it? Is he going to leave me hanging?
I hear the rustle of clothing, of him moving to and from his desk (I think, but can’t really be sure). A trickle of fear returns. What if someone walks in on us? What would I look like sitting here bound, blindfolded, flushed, with juices flowing? I most definitely have stained his beautiful leather chair.
But Logan either hasn’t noticed or doesn’t care. What is he doing?
“That little warm up was for you, Ava, but the rest is for me.”
He steps between my legs and I know he’s naked. The tip of his cock brushes against my tit. I breathe in the scent of it, the mix of soap and must, a heady elixir that makes my mouth water. My wrists pull against the leather belt. I want to touch his cock. I want to rip off this blindfold and gaze at its thick length. I moan with frustration.
I feel his hand on the back of my head. He guides me down until his cock brushes my lips. Oh, the skin of the head is so soft, warm, and smooth. I part my lips and he guides his cock into my mouth. I wrap my lips tight around him and suck. Then I let go and let my tongue swirl around the ridge at the base of the head where the skin extends out like the edge of a helmet. It’s so strange doing this without seeing, without touching, but it’s still delicious, just different. I don’t have any real control. Only my mouth, the dance of my tongue and my opening and closing lips. I can’t create much friction, and I can’t take him too deep inside unless he chooses to come closer. He’s touching himself too. My lips bump against his fingers as he slides up and down. He’s working himself pretty fast and tight. I want to be doing it for him, but I guess he likes it like this for now. I can hear him breathing deep and fast. Then he pulls away from me. I keep my mouth open, waiting. I hear him say my name.
“Oh, Ava…” His voice catches and I’m worried that he’s going to go off right now. Maybe that’s what he wants. Maybe he wants to come on my face, with me blindfolded. I don’t want that. But he just said the rest was for him, didn’t he? Maybe I won’t even
get to come with him. I close my parted lips. That’s when he grabs my head and growls. He shoves his cock back in my mouth.
“Stay open to me,” he demands.
Now he’s driving himself right to the back of my throat making me gag. With one hand he’s pushing himself into me and with the other he’s pushing my head closer to him. I convulse slightly with the force of it all. While it hurts a little, and is shocking to the senses in play, I am overwhelmed by his forceful desire and feel turned on to the point of aching. My pussy throbs with a hunger for him.
“I could come right now,” he grunts. His hand slides from the back of my head to my jaw, where his thumb rests on my lip and touches his cock sliding in and out. “You’re so sexy. I could cream you right now.”
If I had my hands free I’d be touching myself. It would take next to nothing to rub out an exploding climax timed with his release. I can’t believe how turned on I am right now. His words don’t matter, only his body’s motions, the energy radiating off of him, my own responses to my primal needs. Nothing matters but this throbbing pulse that needs to race until in bursts into incandescent flames of satiated desire.
I moan with pleasure to encourage him. I struggle with my bonds to show how much I want to be free so that I can ravage him.
“I could come all over your face and tits but I want to fuck you. Fuck you like I’ve never fucked you before.”
I moan again, caring nothing about the harsh words, only excited that there will be more. He steps away from me. I am surrounded again by cool air and wonderings. I am about to stand up. I haven’t lost the use of my legs and I feel such a strong urge to feel his body. I know he’s close. I can hear him breathing. I imagine him still touching himself, but more slowly now, getting ready to come into me. I hear him rustling, and then I hear the liquid tear of a condom wrapper.
He returns to me, pushing the sleeves of my blouse down to my bound wrists. I am fully exposed to him, and full of hungry desire.
“Take the blindfold off,” I whisper. “Untie me so I can hold you.”
He says nothing. Maybe he shook his head but of course I can’t see that. Then I feel his strong hands on my hips. He’s drawing me up toward him. I open to him. But then, with swift, strong control he flips me around and pushes me down so that I’m doubled over the edge of the chair, my ass open to the ceiling. My face and chest fall into a layer of cushions and if it wasn’t totally dark before, it is now. He steps between my wide open legs. I feel the fronts of his thighs against the backs of mine. He rests the head of his sheathed cock against the river mouth of my flowing, inflamed pussy. He remains there, still, while he massages my ass cheeks and tugs on his knotted belt around my wrists. My shoulders tighten in pain.
“You trust me, Ava?”
I nod, ignoring the pain. The aching desire in my pussy tames the pain somehow, so that the pleasure I’m feeling seems heightened by that little bit of pain, which is strange and unexpected to me. But I’ve decided to let go, to trust Logan, to trust myself. He leans forward slightly so that the head of his cock dips into my pussy the tiniest little bit. I whimper. I want him inside me so bad and he’s teasing me, going so slowly. I try to raise myself more, open a little more so that he’ll slide in effortlessly, but he’s totally in control.
“Don’t worry, you’ll get what you want. And more.” He releases his hold on the belt and my shoulders soften and relax in relief.
“What do you want, Ava?”
“I want you inside me.”
“What do you want inside you?”
“You.”
“Which part of me?”
This is about words. He wants the words.
“Your cock.”
He sighs. “Say it again.”
“I want your cock inside me. Your long hard, thick cock inside me.”
He gives me half an inch for my effort. I’d be writhing around, drawing him in if it weren’t for my limited mobility. Does he want me to beg for it?
“More,” I say.
“More what? And where?”
“Please, Logan. I want your cock in my pussy.”
He slides in a little deeper but he remains very still. Very hard and very still.
I moan with longing. He chuckles.
“What do you want me to do, Ava? My cock is in your pussy. That’s all you wanted, isn’t it?”
“I want it deeper. All of it. I want you to move. I want you to fuck me, Logan. I want your cock to fuck my pussy.”
“That’s my girl.” He slides all the way in and I nearly melt with the pleasure of his thickness filling me. I moan deeply to prove it.
“You like that, baby?”
“God, yes.” He slides in and out slowly. Painfully slowly. I wriggle and tense, trying to get him to go faster.
“You in a hurry?” he says, laughing lightly. “Patience.” He picks up his pace a bit and soon I’m lost in a sweet rhythm. With each smooth thrust I feel more open and full, and more relaxed even though inner tension is beginning to build.
“You’ve got a beautiful ass, Ava. Can I play with it?”
“Mmmm,” I murmur agreeably, happily absorbing every deep, slow thrust and feeling a hunger for even more.
He reaches for something on his desk. I feel something cool and slippery slide between my ass cheeks. I’m as gushingly wet as Niagra Falls so I don’t see why he’s brought out lube, but the added slipperiness feels nice.
His thumbs work the lube around my anus. I feel a different kind of tension bubble up. Is this what he wants?
He’s thrusting deeper and faster now. I arch my back as much as I can to take him as deep as possibly. I feel one of his thumbs slide into my other entrance, the one I consider an exit. I feel my fear rising up again.
“Logan…”
“Relax, Ava. Let go.” I hear a kind of tension and focus in his voice. His thrusts are getting faster. I focus on that pleasure. I feel his balls collide against me with his deepest, hardest thrusts and I moan, feeling completely overwhelmed by his spearing desire.
“Oh, yes…”
He slides his other thumb into me. He’s breathing heavy, watching everything unfold while I’m in the dark, all sensation gathered in my pussy and ass.
“You’re fucking hot,” he says, his voice husky and dripping with primal hunger.
He removes his thumbs. I feel another dollop of lube and then something else slides into my ass, something bigger, rounded, but it’s not him because he’s still driving deep into my pussy.
After the initial entry, the anal pressure starts to feel good. It must be a small dildo. I relax around it and it’s all okay. I feel so open and ripe, so split and ready to receive anything. And my pussy’s on fire. I’m so close to my edge. As Logan works the dildo gently deeper, he drives into me harder, withdrawing almost completely and then driving his full length. I absorb the dual rhythm and feel my thoughts disperse into nothing as everything in my perception hones in on this explosive pressure.
I feel a slap on my ass and the sting feels delicious. It amps everything up. Logan slaps the other cheek now, and then growls with delirious pleasure. I feel as if I could have orgasmed six times already but it’s like the energy’s collecting into one huge volcano just waiting to erupt. More and more pleasure pours into it, bubbling like lava ready to burst and flow.
Logan is moaning deeply and growling in a way I’ve never heard before. He’s mumbling something, but I can’t make out what he’s saying because I’m already at the edge of oblivion. He removes the dildo and I suddenly feel something essential is missing. And then he pulls his cock out too and I’m bereft. I gasp with surprise. He slaps my ass again and then spreads both cheeks. A shot of fear runs through me as the tip of his cock bumps against my ass. I try to wriggle away but I’m pinned. With the help of his lube-slick thumbs he massages the opening until the head of his cock nestles in. I hold my breath, adjusting to the pain and discomfort and trying to transform the pain into pleasure. My pussy, empty for the
moment, is still on fire with desire.
As Logan eases in — he’s so much thicker and longer than the dildo he primed me with — I do my best to receive him. Because what else can I do? I can’t fight, I can’t flee, I can only let go.
He’s in now, and sliding slowly, gently, not being rough at all. I’m still holding my breath and I try to let it out now. Try to let him in. Trust him.
I feel a flutter in my pussy and realize his fingers are roaming its edges. He slides two fingers in and I feel better. One finger he’s left out slides up through my folds until it taps my clit. My fire ignites again. My pussy clenches around his pressing fingers. I bear down on the finger against my clit.
I don’t care what he does to me now. I’m flashing with climactic bursts and want to move with all this pleasure. Logan slides in and out more confidently but still slowly, and while the sensation is strange, I am also beginning to feel a kind of pleasure I’ve never felt before. I feel completely full, totally taken, and this amplifies the fiery bursts in my pussy. My volcano is going to erupt soon. I can feel an almost unbearable heat, a desperate desire for explosive release.
Logan is getting more bold. He’s not giving me his full length, thank goodness, but he’s starting to thrust harder and faster. His breath is ragged and gaspy, different than any of the other times. He pulls on my wrists and I wince, but I’m learning to channel the pain to pleasure. I arch my back as I feel a massive orgasm build from the tip of my clit, to the depths of my pussy and even in the darkest, most private recesses where Logan now plunges. Nothing is left hidden and all is given up to mystery. An animal growl tears through Logan as I feel myself spiral into an orgasm that takes me out of body and mind. My body pulses and clenches with long anticipated release and I feel Logan respond to this, these last deep muscle flexes drawing out his own coming. He moans with his final thrusts, his palms on either side of my ass, holding me to him, holding me together after tearing me apart.
I feel his release, and hear his short vulnerable gasp of attained pleasure. I whimper against the chair letting spiraling orgasmic waves whorl and recede deep within me.