Page 45 of Tied

“It’s your house. Where and how, Tyler?”

Without speaking another word, I rise off the bed to stand. Pulling his mouth to mine, I grasp his cock and squeeze it a few times, reveling in the size. I’ll enjoy that when the time comes, I know it. As our teeth rattle together and our tongues wrestle, I feel my own excitement rising to the point of pain.

Breaking apart, I back him to the bed. “Turn around, Chris,” I command, thoroughly turned on now.

“Bent or on the bed, Tyler?”

“Bend.”

As he does what I instruct, I watch his muscles curve, squirm, and ripple when he bends forward. Petting the most taut ass I’ve ever seen—well, seen in a long time—I stroke each cheek with reverence. Gripping the cheeks tight, but with care, I separate the globes.

“Like what you see?”

“Definitely.” His core is puckered, supple, and asking to be enjoyed. Dipping low, I kiss his cheeks, sweet and softly. Licking the opening, teasing it to relax, I feel my own cock twitch. Spending time to prepare him, I hear Chris moaning his own enjoyment of my care. When I feel him relaxed enough, I position myself at his entrance. “Are you ready?”

“Please.”

Slowly and carefully, I move within the tightness. I won’t rush it. I’m careful of his body, as I hope he will be of mine. Moving back and forth, slow at first, the feeling is so amazing.

I piston my hips forward, gently. Gripping his hips, I pull them back so his ass is higher, giving me a deeper reach.

“Yes! That’s it, right there. Oh my God! Keep that up,” Chris squeals as he tears at the bedspread.

Continuing the movement, keeping up the pace, I curve my own hips upwards. Jerking slightly at the end when my stomach muscles lock, I grind through the motions. “You feel fantastic,” I tell him, short of breath.

“Pull me closer, please.” Huffing out the words quickly, Chris tries to move closer still. “Please, I’m close.”

He’s peeled off the condom, laying it on the bed carefully, and I can hear him stroking himself as I travel back and forth. Timed, we are as one.

Moving him back, grasping his shoulders to arch his back, I reach around so I can grip his cock. “Don’t worry about a mess,” I say, stroking him harshly.

Rocking along with the punishing tempo, he cries out, “Yes! Harder, faster!”

Moving as directed, with sweat dribbling down my forehead, teaming up with the sweat that gathers on our bodies, we push the limits of our need.

“Grasp it to punish. Please,” Chris cries out while gripping my hand, showing me what he wants.

Rising slightly onto one knee, Chris’s angle causes a strange reaction in my own body. My release crests fast. “Oh my...” I yell out with one of the strongest orgasms of my life.

That’s never happened. As I worry about what that means, and how it’s affected the moment, Chris releases himself into my hand as I continue to punish his cock. With a cry of joy, his body tightens around me, squeezing every last ounce of cum I own.

We’re doing that again.

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