“We’ll talk about this another time.” He kissed my lips and pushed his tongue inside, and it felt so nice. And then he slipped the shirt from my shoulders and dropped it on the floor. He pushed me backwards, until I was flat to the bench, and he left me there, walked out of sight. “Give me your wrists.”
He was behind me and I tipped my head to see him as I reached out my hands. He placed my wrists together and bound them with rope, tight enough to be secure but not tight enough to hurt. He pulled them up over my head until I was stretched, and I heard the clank of metal as he tied the rope to something.
“Are you going to put wax on me?”
“Do you want me to put wax on you?”
I nodded. “I’d like that. I’d like everything…”
“How does that feel? To be tied?”
I tried my wrists and they wouldn’t move, and I felt so exposed and vulnerable. “Nice…”
“How about this?” He lifted my legs and spread them, and forced my knees back against the bench, and my body moved for him. I didn’t even know I could move in the way he moved me. My * was spread, I could clench it and when I relaxed it made a soft little wet noise and I could have died of embarrassment. “Do that again,” he said, and so I did, and then he ran his thumb along where I was wet and pushed it inside me. “You have a beautiful little *, Helen.”
All I could think about was the C word. The way he’d said it. How dirty it sounded. I rocked as his thumb fucked me. “Please… please don’t be gentle… I don’t want to be a little girl anymore…”
“Don’t wish to be something you’re not, Helen. You’re perfect the way you are.” He wet his fingers and touched them to my clit and moved them in just the right way, and I wriggled. “You’ll relax when you come for me, and your * will let me in so beautifully.”
My tummy fluttered at his words.
“And then I’m going to fuck you, and it won’t be gentle, not unless you ask me to stop.”
“I won’t…” I breathed. “I won’t ask you to stop. I’ll never ask you to stop.”
He squeezed my breasts, and tweaked my nipples, pinched them and rolled them until they were hard and tender. “Beautiful. My beautiful girl.”
And I wanted to be. I wanted to be his beautiful girl.
“Do you have toys at home, Helen? Vibrators or dildos or anything like that?”
I shook my head and felt so pathetic. “I had a vibrator once… but it broke… and my sister sleeps in the room next door and I…”
“We’ll take a trip, somewhere far enough away that nobody will know us, and you can choose.”
“We will?” The thought made me all warm inside. “What about online?”
“I want to watch you choose them. I want to walk in the street with you and hold your hand and kiss you like you’re mine.”
My breath caught. “You do?”
He smiled, and pushed two fingers inside me and I gasped. “Yes, Helen, I do.”
“I am yours…” I whispered. “I’ve been yours since the day I met you.”
“Tell me what feels good. I need to learn the subtleties of Helen Palmer’s delightful * and you’re currently the only one qualified.”
I smiled at the ceiling. “I never imagined I’d be teaching you anything.”
“A wise man is always learning, Helen, don’t ever forget that. There is plenty you’ll be teaching me.” He pressed on my clit and it sent sparks through my tummy.
“Yes… like that…” I hissed. “Oh God, just like that…” He did it again and I squirmed.
“Like this?”
He circled me and it was crazy good, so good that I couldn’t keep still. I nodded. “Please…”
“Faster?” He sped up just a little and it made me moan, and I always thought it was fake on those videos, and it probably is, but with him I couldn’t keep still or quiet, and my thighs were tensing and my toes were curled in stupid socks.
“That’ll make me come… if you keep… if you keep doing that…”
“I hope so.”
His thumb worked crazy magic on my clit, and he fucked me so slowly with those two wet fingers, and I didn’t know how to move anymore, I was just a mess of juddery legs and squelching, and if I’d have been able to care I’d have been embarrassed, but I was too excited to be embarrassed.
“Oh God, Mr Roberts…”
“Mark.” he said. “Say it.”
And it felt so weird, and naughty… it felt naughty to call him by his first name. “Mark,” I said. “Oh God, Mark… that’s nice… that’s so nice…”
“That’s my good girl.” He was staring at me, watching my pleasure, watching my ragged breaths and the way I wanted him and the way he was making me squirm, and I loved it. I loved his eyes on me. “Take your time, Helen. Don’t rush this.”
I didn’t need to take my time, I was getting that urgent feeling, that tension in me, like I needed something, like something was going to happen, and I couldn’t stop it, and I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to stop it.
“Mark, please… don’t stop… don’t stop…”
“Good girl, Helen.”
I could hear myself, and it was so wet. I tried to shuffle down the bench, but I couldn’t move, my arms were pulled tight, and I liked how it felt when I fought it, I liked knowing I was trapped.