The basket of scarves is what started it all. Beau and I had gone to the harbor for dinner near the water. Afterward, we wandered the shops and ate ice cream, while the city lights glowed around us and a warm breeze drifted in from off the bay.

We were about to head home when Beau spotted the small cart by the water’s edge. A saleswoman was offering a selection of vibrant scarves.

“Those are pretty,” he said, making a beeline for them. He plunged his hand into the jumble of colored fabric and brought up two — orange and turquoise.

“Batik?” I asked the woman.

She gave me a shy nod and explained, “I make them at night after my day job and on the weekends.”

“They’re beautiful,” I said, fingering the soft fabric.

“We’ll take these,” Beau said, without even asking the price.

After forking over a very reasonable 20 bucks, he draped them around my neck.

“Why do I need scarves?”

“They gave me an idea,” he said, giving me a salacious look that shot straight to my stomach like an electric shock. The jolt also stung my pussy, which was suddenly wet.

“What kind of idea?” I asked. But I knew. Something in me knew. That look of his clued me in to his naughty intentions.

“I think you know,” Beau replied. He reached out, trapping my wrist in the loose manacle of his fingers. “I thought we’d play later. I thought maybe you’d like it if I tied you up, made you squirm, made you beg.”

He explained all this with his mouth pressed to my ear, so no one else would hear him.

“Why don’t you sit here, and I’ll go get us a bottle of wine for home,” he said.

We’d stopped just outside the liquor store near the parking garage.

“Why?” 

He simply stared at me, and I zipped my lip. I went to the empty wrought-iron bench, and he sat next to me. He looped the orange scarf up from beneath a bench slat and tied down my wrist. He did the same on the other side with the turquoise scarf. I was bound. In public. But the few people out on the street weren’t paying attention.

However, that didn’t change the fact that I was suddenly so horny I could barely think.

He put his handsome face close to mine and whispered, “Now kiss me.”

I did, and when his tongue brushed over mine, the sensation made my cunt ache. My brain buzzed like I was drunk. My God, I wanted him to fuck me right there. Right then. I didn’t care who was around or what was happening.

He must’ve read my mind because he said, “Relax. We’re going home as soon as I’m done in there.”

I sat there pushing my hands beneath my thighs as the wind rushed through my hair. It was a lovely night to be tied to a bench outdoors.

I giggled, and that giggle turned into a full-on laughing jag. Some folks passed by and gave me curious glances. I was somewhat comforted by the idea that they probably thought I’d had too much to drink.

When Beau returned, he found me riding out my last few giggles. He sat down and put his arm around me as he asked, “What’s so funny, lady?”

“Oh nothing. Doesn’t every girl get tied to a bench to wait for her husband?”

Grinning, he waggled the paper bag he was holding and said, “Got our favorite red. Now let’s get you home.”

He undid one scarf from around the bench, but not the end fastened around my wrist. I waited as he stood, moved to the other side and repeated his action. I held up my arms and waved them. The long tails of the scarves danced with the motion.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” I asked.

“Nope.”

He gathered the two tails in his hand and balled them up. Instead of holding his wife’s hand on the way to the car, he was holding my scarves. I walked beside him, slightly embarrassed but terrifically turned on. It was an odd but intoxicating feeling.

He helped me into the car, put the bottle in the backseat, then climbed behind the wheel. I was no longer tied down to anything, but with the scarves knotted around my wrists, I felt in his thrall.

Turning to face me, Beau asked, “How are you doing, sweetheart?”

I swallowed hard. In the close confines of the car — smelling his cologne and feeling the scarves around my wrists — I was growing impossibly horny. In fact, I could barely breathe.

“I’m fine,” I finally managed to say.

We were parked on an upper level of the garage in a deserted corner, and the lights above us were on the fritz.

I heard the soft rasp of his zipper as he drew it down, then the dry rustle of his fingers manipulating his fly. He put his hand on the back of my head and gently pushed down until I lowered myself to take his cock in my mouth. My hair fell over my face, a privacy curtain of sorts.

The act of sucking his dick made my pussy wetter, as if his antics with the scarves were not enough, and before long, I could feel the moisture soaking my panties. Starting to get lost in the needy anticipation building within me, I shifted my attention back to the task at hand. I slowed my pace and focused on the texture of the cock filling my mouth.

Beau put a little more pressure on the back of my head, and I went as far down as I could. I felt the brush of his cock against the back of my throat and his wiry pubic hair touching my lips.

He started the car, and I inhaled sharply. Using my hair as a lead, he gently guided me up into a sitting position. He smoothed my skirt around my lap. He pulled my tank top down, baring one braless boob. Next, he captured my stiff nipple between his lips and gave it a good suck, making me moan.

He messed up the skirt he had just straightened by plunging his hand beneath it. He stroked my panty-covered crotch, and when his fingertips dragged across my veiled clit, I sighed.

“When we get home, I’m going to ruin you,” he said.

To punctuate his promise, he worked his fingers inside my panties and jammed them into my cunt. I was dripping wet, and his fingers slid in deep and fast. I released a helpless moan. Beau withdrew his fingers from my cunt and brought them to my face, where he pushed them past my lips and over my tongue. I sucked on them enthusiastically as he watched with an animalistic gleam in his dark eyes.

Ruin me. God, yes, please, I thought.

At our place, Beau kept a tight hold on the scarves as he led me from the garage to the house. He sat me down on the couch, then uncorked the wine. Setting the bottle on the sideboard, he said, “We can let that breathe while we’re busy.”

I nodded, my mouth suddenly dry. But I craved him much more than any drink.

“Stand up.”

I obeyed, though my legs felt a little wobbly.

“Arms up,” he ordered.

As soon as I complied, he tugged my tank up and over my head. He brushed back my mussed hair, then he leaned in and kissed me roughly. His fingers clamped over my nipples, pinching them hard. I gasped as excitement uncoiled in my belly. But Beau didn’t let up and proceeded to pinch them harder. Next, he tied the two scarves together behind my back.

“There. A big pretty bow for you.”

As I stood before him — a bundle of arousal and nerves — he tugged my skirt down over my hips and let it drop to the floor. He rubbed his hand over my mound, cupping my crotch over my undies. He pressed one finger against my slit, dragging it upward until he nudged my clitoris. I groaned with frustration, which only seemed to amuse him. He pushed my panties down until they fell around my ankles. He bent down and tugged on them, encouraging me to lift my feet one at a time to free myself.

Beau leaned in and placed a gentle kiss against the top of my slit. The sensation of his lips lit me up inside — and made me crazy. I wanted him to lick me, to kiss and lap at my cunt and clit until I was powerless to do anything but surrender to orgasm.

Instead, he pulled me down, helping me onto my knees, so we were face-to-face. My shoulders ached, and my bound arms quivered. I felt the big loopy bow of scarves tickling the small of my back.

Beau dragged his finger along my lower lip. I darted my tongue out to taste it. His big brown eyes twinkled with mischief.

Climbing to his feet, he stripped. I knew once I’d pleased him, given in to all the little things he wanted from me, we’d get to the fucking. And by the time we finished, my release would be exquisite.

He rested the smooth crown of his cock on my lower lip. The feel of him there, poised before my mouth, made my pussy clench. I wanted so badly to have him pound me — to hold my hair, tug it and screw me senseless.

But I’d have to wait.

Beau pushed his head past my lips, and I opened wider to take him. I hungrily lapped at the underside of his rod. He inhaled sharply, and judging by the look on his face, he was taken by surprise by the sensation. It was a small victory for me.

Behind my back, my hands warred with one another, tangling and pulling against my bonds. I was helpless, restless and needy, wanting to touch, stroke and clutch my hunky captor.

I groaned as Beau pushed his dick farther into my mouth. He slid so deep I nearly gagged. He cupped my jaw with one hand, as the fingers of the other tangled in my hair. The pressure of his hand on my head increased as his body lunged forward to fuck my face.

Falling into an erotic trance, I inhaled deeply and rhythmically through my nose. I patiently waited for him to get his fill of my mouth. He rarely preferred to shoot his cream down my throat. If our past play was any indication, he’d want to explore more of my body before reaching his grand finale.

I did my best to take him to the brink of orgasm by rubbing my tongue underneath his cock and sucking on the tip of it as if it were a hard piece of candy. I methodically drew on his shaft, using my mouth to make his mind shut down.

When he grunted and pulled free of my face, I once again felt victorious but masked my glee.

“I know what you’re doing,” he said, pushing his hands beneath my arms to help me stand. “Trying so very hard to get me off.”

I said nothing.

“But two can play at that game,” he said.

Beau led me to our bed and untied my bow like I was a big present. He pulled my right arm up and attached it to the headboard. He did the same with my left arm. But he left my legs free; he liked to see me squirm.

“What a pretty pussy,” he said softly.

Then he slapped his hand against my mound, sparking a sudden, stinging pain. My body instantly jerked, and I let out a little cry. The shocking sensation soon faded and was replaced by a warm thudding pleasure.

The smack was followed by another. 

Again, I jumped in my bonds, feeling an escalating heat invading my cunt. My pussy was aching and ready. I wanted him to fuck me so badly. He’d brought me to the point of begging, and I pleaded for his cock. But he wasn’t swayed by my words and instead jammed a finger deep inside me until it bottomed out.

“I’ll fuck you soon enough,” he promised, eliciting a whine from me. “Shh, now. Or I’ll walk away and leave you here tied to the bed.”

That was enough to silence me.

My reward was another digit joining the first inside my pussy. He finger-fucked me until I thought I’d lose my mind. I raised my hips off the mattress, wanting him to penetrate me deeper and harder. Ever the tease, he lowered his head and gave my clit a single exaggerated lick, and I practically sobbed.

At that point, Beau withdrew his fingers. His cock was impossibly hard, solid proof that he was as turned on as I was.

I found myself testing my bonds. Not on purpose; it was just a reflex. My captured arms were shaking.

“Oh, such a good girl, and such a bad girl,” he said.

He smacked my pussy again, and I yelped. Then his fingers plunged back into me — teasing me, taunting me and making me crazy.

He put his mouth back on me, delivering subtle licks to my clit. Barely there. Just enough to make me squirm and beg some more. And I did, shamelessly. I had no problem showing him he was torturing me.

His words came back to me then. The words he’d used earlier in the night.

“Ruin me, baby,” I pleaded.

He latched his mouth onto me, roughly batting at my clitoris with his tongue. My arms jerked, and the headboard rattled loudly. His fingers fucked my hole as he sucked harshly on my clit. My moans were constant pleas for release.

“I’m so close. I just want to come,” I begged. “I’ll be good. So good. So very good. I promise you.”

Beau stepped up. His fingers glided in and out of my wetness effortlessly, plunging and plundering and driving me ever closer to climax. His maddening tongue flicked my button until it was too much. I couldn’t take anymore, and I came with a long loud cry, my back bowing and my arms shaking.

“So very lovely,” he murmured.

He took his time untying me, letting me catch my breath and ride out every last climactic quiver. He slid his hands along my curves, stroking me soothingly. Then he tied my hands in front of me. I knew it was time to fuck, and I practically shivered with delicious anticipation.

He put me on my elbows and knees. I spread my legs a little wider to keep my balance, since — bound as I was — I didn’t really have use of my hands. Then he gripped my hips as his cock slipped along my slick pussy. He didn’t need to hold his shaft steady to enter me. His aim was true, and he speared my cunt so roughly that the force of his thrusts rocked me forward and nearly knocked the air out of me.

With my forehead pressed to the mattress and my eyes closed, I sighed. My greedy body accepted every plunge of Beau’s cock. And when I’d somewhat gathered my wits, I matched his rhythm and reared back to take his dick even deeper.

Beau’s thumb traced my back hole and inched inside my rear passage. The action only encouraged me to ram myself toward him with more intensity, and he jammed his thumb deeper into me. I clenched my internal muscles around his driving dick, and he pounded his cock into me relentlessly.

He pulled his thumb from my butt and smacked the outer curve of my ass. The sensation echoed in my pussy. I was one overstimulated nerve ending — one wailing unit of need.

Beau’s arm looped around my middle as I struggled to keep my balance. He kept me from sinking onto the mattress and continued to drive himself into me. He leaned over me, pressing his chest to my back. He was hunched over me like a glorious predator as he punched his cock into me with short, hard jabs.

“Faster,” I begged.

But he slowed down — no doubt to remind me of my place.

I nearly sobbed from want, but stayed as still as I possibly could because I hoped he’d soon take pity on me. He did, fucking me the way I’d so recklessly demanded. Probably because he was too turned on to play games for long.

He slightly pulled his body away from mine, and his thumb nudged my asshole again. I let him push it into me. I urged him to do it more by rocking back toward him. He matched the thrusts of his digit with that of his cock pistoning in and out of my cunt.

I was overwhelmed by the intense double penetration. It was a feeling of seductive invasion. He pulled his thumb free once more, and I correctly guessed we were ready to race to the finish line.

I moved with him, matching the cadence of his fucking. His lips met the back of my neck, his teeth sliding along my skin. He licked my neck, nibbled me, then bit me hard enough to make me gasp. Every nip caused my pussy to release another gush of juice, aiding the insistent movements of his cock as it rocketed in and out of my cunt.

Beau brought one hand beneath me and roughly rubbed my clit. I loved being manhandled that way, and I soon came in an explosive release of tension and arousal. Once I’d let go, he gave in to his desires, moving faster and more erratically until he stilled with a grunt after he’d reached his peak.

Wetness coated my inner thighs as our combined fluids leaked out of me, and I indeed felt ruined. Spectacularly and perfectly ruined.