Read Best Bondage Erotica 2014 Online

Authors: Rachel Kramer Bussel

Best Bondage Erotica 2014 (21 page)

“Your ropes are squeezing my shaft really hard,” he said. “I like it. I like being tied deep inside you. But I'm going to have to do something about them so I can fuck you before my balls implode. I'm going to cut the rope.”

“No.” It was the first thing I'd said for over an hour. I wasn't prepared to be freed yet. “You can't.”

“Yes, I can. And I can punish you later for trying to tell me what to do.” The games we play. I love them. My mind flashed with memories of spankings. I felt cold metal against the base
of my spine and realized he was slicing through the rope with his pocketknife. The cotton weave ground harder against my clit as the blade worked against it and then it twanged loose. Jake began to pound into me urgently. The cut ends of the rope slipped out of place and my clit felt abandoned. I dropped to my elbows and braced myself against his solid thrusts. All too soon I felt Jake's cock grow and pulse inside me as he emptied his load with a loud groan.

He rested inside me for a moment. “Don't think I'm all done now,” he said. “I'm still going to keep you tied up for the rest of the day at home. And I'm going to use the red ball gag to stop you telling me what to do again.” The red gag was the largest one we owned. It made my jaw ache and the saliva drip from the corners of my mouth. It was the only one that really prevented speech with any real effectiveness.

“But now, I'm going to make you come. Hands behind your back please.” Resting my forehead on the car seat's velour I shifted my arms behind me and Jake linked my cuffs. “Now turn over.” He helped me squirm around and I wriggled my wrists until my hands were flat beneath the small of my back. My shoes smeared mud on Jake's shoulders. He took the two strands of loose rope and teased my clit for a moment, pulling them taut and jerking them from side to side. I lifted my hips and ground myself against them.

He tucked the strands out of the way, parted my labia and flicked the very tip of his tongue over my clit. Fuck. It was like a sharp note that made the usual sensation seem flat. That tiny lick shot straight into the depths of my pelvis. It felt as though the nerves of my clit were exposed directly to each minute ridge and fall of his taste buds.

He flicked at me again, and I disintegrated into a mess of desperate groans. A truckers' trailer café could have set up shop
next to us in the lay-by and I couldn't have uttered a single word of protest as drivers leered through the car windows. Jake pushed two fingers inside me, quickly followed by a third. The sharp note of my pleasure notched up an octave as he set to the serious task of rasping the flat of his tongue up from the very base of my clit to its tip. His fingers slithered in his own come as he pushed his knuckles against my entrance with an exquisitely slow twist. I was there in seconds. At that peak, my second summit of the day, the view was all rainbows and pink mist.

“Oh fuck, I'm gonna come, I'm gonna come.” I don't know what always compels me to confess this obvious fact, but I did it anyway and Jake moaned into my pussy as my body tightened and my eyes screwed shut. The orgasm carried on way past the moment I expected it to subside. It carried on so long I had to remind myself to breathe. It carried on so long that I opened my eyes again and watched the rainbows fizz against gray plastic the color of January clouds. “Fuck, stop,” I finally groaned and Jake slowed, giving me a gentle last lick before stopping. He slipped his fingers out and lowered my limp legs to dangle out of the car door.

“That seemed intense.” He walked his hands up the car's interior so he could reach my lips with his own. I couldn't answer. I could barely kiss back. “Let's get home. And get you comfortably tied to the bed.” How does he always know what I'm thinking? But then came the surprise. “Next time we go for a walk, I'm going to put a butt plug into your lovely ass before I tie the
karada
. And you'll have to lose the crop top. I want you in nipple clamps.”

AN APPRECIATION FOR BEAUTIFUL THINGS

Giselle Renarde

The antique mirror wore its age with pride—black splotches, veining and all. After Dell bought it, he removed the backing and popped off the gaudy gold frame. He didn't plan on hanging it.

Clearing the clutter from Genevieve's night table, Dell set the mirror down flat.
Perfect
—an ideal showcase for the gorgeous silver hairbrush that had come down through her family. That brush had started life paired with an equally ornate dressing table mirror. Splitting them up? That was his mother-in-law's bright idea. That's how Genevieve ended up with the lonely brush while her sister walked away with a hand mirror.

Not that it mattered anymore. Dell had found an alternate partner for Genevieve's brush, and their wabi-sabi union was beautiful in its own right.

He asked her to close her eyes as he guided her into the bedroom.

“Okay, now open them.”

Genevieve looked around, like she was searching, searching,
searching...for something different. Dell saw in her face when she found it. She smiled rather more gently than he'd anticipated, and said, “You cleaned my night table.”

“Yes, that, too.” Dell pulled Genevieve to the bedside. “But look—I found a mirror to go with your brush. I cleaned them—don't worry, I was careful to preserve the patina—and set them out so you'd see them first thing every morning.”

“Oh, neat.” Her smile was fake. “Looks good. Everything you put together looks good. That's why I leave the decorating to you.”

She obviously wasn't excited about the remarriage of vanity pieces, and that hurt Dell in a way he couldn't fully articulate.

“You don't like it.”

“No, I do. I really do.” She flopped on the bed and groaned. “Sorry, it's not you. Just one of those days.”

He sat beside her, brushing pale orange wisps from her eyes. Despair didn't suit her pixie face, but he couldn't fathom what had upset her.

“Is there anything I can do?” he asked.

“No, just...” With a heaving breath, she sat up. “My mom thinks you're gay.”

“I know. She's not exactly shy with the flagrant accusations.” Dell stared into Genevieve's quixotic green eyes, but he didn't find what he was looking for. “What are you so worried about?”

She looked helplessly to the night table. “You're not...are you...?”

“You're asking if I'm
gay
?”

She smiled, and then laughed, and then rolled her eyes. “Sorry. I'm an idiot. It's my mom—she's poison.”

“No, no—I get it.” Dell wrapped his arms around his wife and kissed her hair. “Only a gay man can have an appreciation
for beautiful things. How ridiculous is that? Aren't straight men supposed to have an appreciation for beautiful women?”

“You're right.” She chuckled softly. “It doesn't make any sense.”

“I'll never be your caveman,” he said in all seriousness. “I love you. I desire you. I would give my life for you. But I'll never be a belching, beer-swilling brute. That's not who I am.”

“Thank god.” Her eyes darkened. “I mean, half your appeal is that you're...the way you are.”

Dell cocked his head. “Gay-ish?”

“Yeah.” Genevieve crept a little closer. When her fingers found his thigh, she dug her nails in hard, like she was hanging on for dear life. She wore a playful sneer when she said, “Ask any girl if she wants to fuck a gay guy, and you know what she'll say?”

“Yes?” Dell guessed.

“No.” Genevieve found his hardness. “She'll say she wants to fuck
all
the gay guys.”

Dell gasped as she rubbed his cock through his clothing. “Why?”

“I don't know. Maybe it's just a nice fantasy because we know it could never happen. It's a crush you can hold on to forever. It'll never go sour.”

“You're just full of surprises,” Dell said, pinning his wife to the mattress.

She gasped, eyes wide. “You, too.”

“So tell me...” Dell writhed against her clothed body, rubbing his erection over her mound. “How many crushes do you have right now?”

“On gay guys, you mean?” She giggled, until he pressed his weight more firmly against her pelvis. “Oh, wow. Okay, maybe...six?”

Dell dropped his chest to hers, feeling the subtle rise and
swell of her breasts. He wasn't heavy, except in comparison to her. Trapped beneath him, she squirmed—not to escape, but to strike her sweet spot against his hardness. He knew her tricks, and he could tell when she'd found what she was looking for by the way her breath hitched.

“Six guys?” Dell's hot breath bounced off Genevieve's ear, kissing his lips. “Six gay men all oiled up and ready to fuck?”

“Yes.”

His cock throbbed against her pussy. “What would they do to you?”

“I don't know.” Genevieve swallowed hard as his hands found her ass. “I never really thought about the specifics.”

He unzipped his pants and pulled out his erection. He couldn't wait any longer. Just listening to her talk like that, so dirty, about all those guys...

“If they were here in this room, right now, what would they do?”

“Fuck me,” Genevieve moaned.

“They'd fuck you? All six of them?”

“No,
you
!” She yanked up her skirt. “I want
you
to fuck me, Dell.”

He held her shoulders against the bed and raised his hips. “Pull your panties down if you want to get fucked so bad.”

“What, you don't believe me?”

“I'll believe it when I see it, sister.” His cockhead whacked her belly. “You don't seem to be in any hurry to get those panties off.”

Genevieve peeled their clothes away wildly, throwing everything everywhere. Dell wasn't even sure how he got out of his pants, but the fine fabric ended up on the floor, just like everything else.

“There,” she cried. “Happy now?”

“Not yet.” Dell held her down as he guided his cock to her cunt. She groaned when his throbbing tip swelled in the wet heat between her thighs. “That's more like it.”

Genevieve whimpered as he savored the warm hug of her pussy. When she tightened up, god, she was a vise around his shaft. Her cunt sucked his dick like a practiced mouth. There was no containing Little Miss Genevieve. Dell could hold her body down, but her pussy was its own universe, exerting every possible pressure. It was too good, too much.

“Fuck, I can't.” He pulled out, crawling off the bed.

“What's wrong?”

“I'm about to come.”

“Already?”

“I just need a little...” Dell's gaze fell across the night table. “Brush.”

Genevieve panted as she watched him. “You need a little brush?”

Something rugged and rough burbled up inside Dell, making his cock throb. His dick was drenched in pussy juice. He could smell it on him like a wet musk.

Yanking Genevieve's calves, he drew her to the edge of the mattress. She screamed when he flipped her little body upside down, letting her legs dangle off the side of the bed.

“What are you doing, Dell?”

“I'm spanking you, Little Miss.”

He couldn't quite tell if that was a giggle or a fearful squeal.

“Oh god,” she whispered. “Okay.”

Dell picked up the gorgeous silver brush. “I'm spanking you with
this
.”

“Oh.” Her fingers clenched around the duvet. Dell could feel a squeal rising in her throat as he brought the brush down—but not too hard, not to start.

Genevieve pulled more of the duvet under her breast, forming herself a feathery nest. “More?”

“Yes.” Dell brought the wide paddle of the brush down on her ass. Harder, this time. Hard enough to make her scream. She sounded almost surprised, like she hadn't seen it coming.

“Too much?”

“No,” Genevieve whimpered. “No, it's good. Keep going.”

His cock surged, whacking her thigh as he traced the paddle around her virgin cheek. He was just about to spank her when his hand took control of the scene. Flipping the brush, he carved her flesh with the cruel horsehair bristles.

“Ouch.” Genevieve whacked the brush away with one hand. “That really hurts.”

“Does it?” He flipped the brush over, and slammed it down on her fresh cheek.

She shrieked, obviously unprepared for the force of that spanking. “Ow!”

“More?”

“Yes,” she whimpered.

He paddled her again, more than once. After three passes at the same spot, she started swatting at the brush.

“No!” Dell said. “Bad girl. Keep your hands to yourself.”

He smacked the other cheek to give the pinkish one a bit of a break, but Genevieve kept swatting. “I can't help it. My hands have a mind of their own.”

“Well, control them.” Dell grabbed her wrist and held it at the small of her back.

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