A new story. Comments welcome
She lay naked, face down on the bed. He had bound her amkles and wrists to the bedframe. Tight, but not uncomfortably so. She had a blindfold over her eyes end felt completely helpless, exposed as she was, with her legs drawn far enough apart to reveal, and open her sex. If he had wanted he could have taken her there and then, with no resistance possible, whether she had wanted or not.
But he hadn't taken her. He had bound her, given her behind and upper thighs a perfunctory massage and then, suddenly she had recognised the smell of peppermint, and his fingers inside her. It reminded her more of an examination than sex. A real turnoff. The desire she had felt earlier had given way to a mixture of disappointment and anger and she remembered how the hope of lovely sex had almost run out of her and was replaced with fear over what he might do next. So stupid to agree to meet this man whom she hardly knew.
He had had something cold on his fingers, which he had rubbed onto her and inside her for a minute or two.- It all seemed so technical and as cold as the creme that smarted a little on the little area inside her that, if it was just treated right, if she were turned on enough already, could give her the most intense orgasms. But this. This was just untalented, unfeeling mistreatment of a woman.
Suddenly he had stopped, and she wondered if he had suddenly realised how inept his treatment of her was. He had got up from the bed, gone over to the other side of the room and then she heard the sound of rough sex coming from the computer that was lying on the desk. The door had opened, closed and now she was lying there. Bound, disapointed, angry, scared, alone and naked, with the sound of sex, and the cold smarting in her vagina.
Just a few hours earlier she had arrived with her little overnight bag at the airport. A bag containing nothing more than two extra changes of underwear, a jeans, a top and her toilet bag: toothbrush, toothpaste, floss, a little makeup and condoms, always condoms because "you never know".
With her she had also carried a strange mixture of feelings: the slight nausea of nerves in her upper stomach and the tingle of arousal at its base. A sweet itch deep inside that was very familiar. She was easily aroused and proud of it.
The feeling always carried with it a lovely warm sensation between her legs, and something that might or might not be something trickling ever so slightly out of her, over her most sensitive regions, so that they slid so delightfully together when she walked. She had enjoyed the moment at the airport enough not to have noticed where she was going and had suddenly found herself out of the airport's secure zone and in the public lobby.
The reason both for the feelings and the trip was, she had hoped, waiting for her somewhere out here - or was that really what she was hoping? Would it really be just as well if he stood her up and she had to take the next flight home?
She had been in doubt all along and didn't really know why she had ordered the air-tickets. It wasn't that there was any shortage of offers at home. She was attractive and knew it. If she wanted a man all she had to do was to go out on the town. Someone always came along who was tempting enough to take home, but these experiences weren't always successful, and often she lay there after the men had emptied themselves and left, and she wondered why she kept doing it. Why she didn't just find herself a stable partner who cared, or accepted that she was best off with her toys and her imagination....
but there she had stood, in the airport lobby, and was about to meet this man whom she only knew through a few, brief written exchanges on the internet. He was married and had given the impression like so many of the others, that he was frustrated at home and looking for the "something more" that all the married men described. yet there had been something in his salacious messages that had aroused her interest, where others writing the same would simply have left her feeling disgust and she had ordered the trip almost without noticing the decision
She remembered feeling a little disappointed when she first saw him. A completely ordinary, middle-aged man. bespectacled and with grey, slightly receding hair. Pictures never tell the truth, but they can lie in both directions and she had hoped for something, well, a little more muscular. He was slim enough, but resembled far more a mixture of Mr. Bean, Basil Fawlty and Woody Allen than of Ralph Fiennes and Arnold Schwarzenegger - her imagination always had a tendency to optimism. He had seen her too, because he had started to make small "come hither" gestures from behind the paper he was pretending to read. He hed looked nervous too and cast his eyes about with little, guilty looks. She had followed him out of the terminal building and into the indoor parking, where he had opened and sat himself in a small, dark car. "Anonymous like him" she had found herself thinking...
Her reveries were interrupted by a series of orgasmic moans and yelps from the direction of the computer and she suddenly felt an empathetic twinge of arousal shoot through her from her nipples to her sex. In fact, she realised, the irritating, cold, burning sensation had given way to a much more pleasant aching, itching, burning sensation centered around a G-spot that was feeling unusually taut and tense. She could almost feel the engorgement as it pressed against its surrounding tissues and nerves. Not only that, but each moan and yelp from the computer sent a new wave through her. She made to move a hand down to press on the area that was crying out for more pressure, but quickly found and remembered that her hands were tied.
All she could do to massage the area was to tense and release her internal muscles, grinding her hips up to meet each wave of tension.
It was good, very good, but not quite good enough and served only to increase her need to be filled with the warm, fat hardness of a man.
A penis. She could imagine it now, just out of reach of her hips as she raised them to meet it. The bulbous redness of the glans head, dripping slippery wetness from its tip, almost meeting her lips, She could feel the closeness of it yet it never quite touched her. Oh, how much she wanted it inside her now. stretching her. Pressing against that sweetly aching spot inside her to release her from the unbearable tension of arousal. The orgasmic moans from the computer were almost painful to her now. each of them bringing a new, sharp wave of longing for release from the throbbing ache. She found herself moaning loudly herself with each raising of her hips.
The door opened and her captor reentered the room.
