Her breasts look exquisite in this position—petite, tan circles peeking through the sheer fabric of her bra. I can’t help myself asI reach out and draw my fingers along the ridges of her rib cage and up to the small mounds of her breasts.
She lets out another sound like a whimper. So I pinch the small bud between my fingers. What the fuck am I doing?
“Would you like me to stop?” I ask.
She shakes her head.
Good girl, I think. I won’t say it out loud. I don’t want her to think she’s being praised for enduring something. It would only encourage her to lie for my benefit.
Bringing my body flush with hers, I continue to play with her small tits just to see the way her breathing changes as I do. God, what a weak man I am. It’s only the first session, and already I’m losing my control. I was so full of shit when I told her it wouldn’t be about sex. That’sallI can think about.
She’s trying to keep her pleasure sounds in. Maybe she thinks I don’t want to hear those the same way I don’t want to hear her voice. I like the idea of her obeying me so intently.
“Do you like it so far?” I ask with my face near hers. “Being tied up and teased?”
She nods only a little, unable to move her head and neck as much with her arms pressed up around her ears. She does, however, let out a small sound again as I pinch the sensitive bud.
I can’t get over how beautiful she looks like this. Most people are uncomfortable their first time. They fight against the ropes or struggle to find a comfortable position, but Camille seems to melt into this bondage like she was made for it. Like she was just waiting for me to show her.
“Is this what you wanted me to show you?” I ask, trailing my fingers down from her chest and around to her back.
She nods.
“There are so many more things to try. More positions, more knots, more…opportunities. Would you like that?”
“Yes,” she cries out on a whimper. “Please.”
With that, I spin her around so that her back is pressed to my chest. The chains above her rattle as she struggles to regain her balance.
My cock aches as I press it against her ass. I’m going to hell for this.
Her head falls backward so she’s resting it on my shoulder. She’s struggling to keep the sounds in now. Little whimpers and whines of desire escape her lips. And they only get worse when my greedy hands take their fill, roaming her body.
What I wouldn’t give to slide down these panties and fill her up. I’d like to see her try to stay quiet then.
No matter how hard I try to restrain myself from rubbing my stiff length against her, I can’t seem to stop. It feels too good. She is too perfect.
She cries out with need, and it only urges me on. So much for restraint. That’s long gone now. We have slipped past the edge of control, and we’re both giving in to base needs here. I’m grinding against her as she writhes against me, hungry for more.
Then she mumbles something incoherent to herself in French, and it’s like having someone snap me out of a daze.
What the fuck am I doing?This is my daughter’s nanny.
I’m a fucking monster.
My hands release her body, and I take a step back, forcing deep breaths into my lungs.
I’m supposed to be the one in control here, and she has me falling to pieces.
“That’s enough,” I snap.
She lets out a gasp, turning her head to find me, although she can hardly move with her arms still stretched toward the ceiling.
“What? No. Don’t stop,” she pleads.
“We’re getting carried away,” I say as I pull the rope loose from the ceiling, and Camille nearly tumbles to the floor.
“Wait,” she whispers, quickly catching herself and closing her lips.