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Bondage in a book is one thing, but when real life steps in, Meghan gets a happy ending she wasn’t expecting.

I was reading at the deli counter again. One of my favorite things to do is relax at lunchtime with a book. For some reason, I can tune out ambient noises with someone else’s words running through my mind. But on this day, everything went haywire. Granted, I’d been a bit risqué in my choice of reading material, selecting a classic erotic book that anyone in the know would recognize: black font on a white cover, the short title leaving little to the imagination. A book considered by many to be the grand dame of erotica.

I kept the paperback down on the counter, sipped my coffee, took bites of my sandwich, and lost myself in smut written more than half a century ago. That is, until my handsome waiter paused to whisper in my ear, “That’s one of my favorites.”

My cheeks went pink. I hadn’t thought anyone was paying attention. He poured me a refill and asked, “Are you reading for entertainment? Or trying to pick up tips?”

“I thought you were the one working for tips,” I shot back, trying to find my footing in the conversation. He smiled at me. He’d served me before — I mean, he’d been my waiter — on previous occasions. But this was the first time I felt a flicker between us. He set one hand gently on top of mine, and in seconds, the flicker had become a full-on flame. I felt a rush all the way through my body.

Just as quickly, he moved away. I watched, feeling robbed, as he maneuvered through the throng of customers to fill another lady’s cup, and I felt a pang of jealousy work through me. I didn’t think I could go back to reading the book now, but I didn’t want to leave the restaurant either. Finally, I ripped out the title page of the paperback, wrote my name and number on it, and left the page along with my payment beneath my cup.

If he called, he called. If he didn’t, I’d have to find a new place to eat lunch and go home to a vibrator and porn.

As it turned out, my cell phone started ringing before I’d reached the car.

“Meghan,” he said. “I like that name.”

“Thank you,” I responded. My voice was shaking.

“I want to see you tonight,” he continued. “Where do you live?”

I gave him my address and spent the rest of the afternoon trying not to leave a wet stain on my chair. What had gotten into me? I didn’t think I had much in common with the heroine in the book — nothing except that we both apparently went in for unexpected bondage. It was the way the waiter had touched me that left me in this state, the way he’d looked into my eyes and made silent promises. Oh, I was gone all right, into the heady, la-la land of kinky fairytales. I warned myself to slow down. I didn’t know this man at all.

In fact, I didn’t even know his name.

But maybe that’s what made everything so exciting. The fact that I dressed six different times before landing on an outfit I felt was appropriate — a turquoise halter dress that hugged my figure and showed off my cleavage. The fact that I paced back and forth in my living room, thinking every set of headlights was going to be his. The fact that when he rang the doorbell, I nearly melted at his feet in a pool of unrequited lust.

He was dressed differently from the way he had been at work, as I could have expected. He had on black slacks, boots, a white button-down shirt, and a black jacket. He looked sleek and sexy, and he smiled at me as if he could read every dirty desire that danced through my mind. Then he brought a bouquet of red roses from behind his back. “They’re beautiful,” I said, carrying the blooms into the kitchen to find a vase while he hung his jacket from my coat rack.

“Mind the thorns,” he said, and I felt myself start to tremble all over again.

“I don’t even know your name,” I told him, figuring that the longer I waited to ask the more awkward things would get.

“My name’s Daniel,” he answered, and then, before I could say, “Pleased to meet you” or engage in any standard chitchat, he added: “I don’t even know your safeword.”

Oh, my heart. The pounding was getting louder and faster. I took a deep breath that was more of a gulp, and Daniel lifted one of the roses from the vase and trailed the petals along the underside of my throat. I shut my eyes. My panties were wet. My lips parted. What was he doing to me?

“Safeword,” he said again, and this time he turned the flower and ever so gently raked the thorns up the bare skin of one arm and down the other. I shivered all over at the prickly sensation. Had I thought I was wet before? If I didn’t get out of these clothes soon, Daniel would be able to see the proof of my arousal himself.

“I’ve never had one before,” I told him honestly.

He smiled and waited. The rose was still in his hands, and this time he dragged the petals over the skin he’d just tormented. I took a tremulous breath and said, “Queen.”

“Why?”

“Crimson Queen are my favorite roses,” I told him, and he flipped the stem once more. This time he lifted the hem of my dress and lightly dragged the thorns down the insides of my thighs. I pressed back against the tiled kitchen counter and watched him. I wanted to lean back, to close my eyes, to lose myself in the feeling of this beautiful man doing dirty things to me. But then I wouldn’t be able to watch, and I wanted to own this scene forever.

“Take off your dress,” he said.

I undid the tie at the back of my neck and pulled the halter-style dress down past my waist, past my hips, shimmying out of the formfitting fabric until it lay on the floor. Now I was only wearing a black strapless bra, matching panties, and my cork-soled sandals.

“Turn around,” he said, “and bend over the counter.”

My pussy clenched so tight. I felt as if I were on the edge of a cliff, about to take a step into the unknown. And all this was happening because I’d dared to read vintage porn at a busy delicatessen.

Quickly, I did what he requested, and I saw in the reflection on the chrome toaster as he reached for one of my wooden spoons from the container by the stove and then returned to my side.

“Have you ever been spanked?”

I shook my head.

“You answer me when I ask you a question.”

“No, Daniel,” I said. “Not ever.”

“Do you want me to spank you?”

I arched my back for him, so that my ass was ripe and ready.

“Yes,” I said, then as an afterthought, “please.”

“I’m going to give you ten. We’ll see how you handle the pain.”

Then he started, the back of the spoon heating my asscheeks even through my satin panties. I stayed still for the spanking, my palms on the cool tile, my breathing speeding up. I didn’t know what to think of this. I’d never had a man punish my ass before. But I was fully aware of the wetness seeping out of me. I knew that if Daniel decided to feel my pussy for himself, my body would tell him exactly what he needed to know.

At ten, he set the spoon on the counter and did precisely what I’d hoped. He dragged my panties down my legs, and then he bent on the floor behind me and pressed his face to my split. “Oh, fuck, you’re wet,” he said against my naked skin. “Your pussy is positively dripping.”

He licked me while I did my best to stay still, and then he stood and bit the back of my neck, pressing his cock against me through his slacks. I wanted to tell him to fuck me. If I’d been out with a different man, if there hadn’t been this sexy power play between us, I would have turned and batted my eyelashes and told him I was hungry for him. But being with Daniel had set me off balance. I didn’t know how I should act. I waited for his next instruction, relieved when he said, “Take me to your bedroom.”

On shaky legs, I stood and led the way. Dan grabbed his coat from the foyer and followed me. When we got to the room, he said, “Your bed is perfect.”

I’d never thought about it before. The brass bed was a hand-me-down, one that suited the purpose for sleep, but one I’d never considered for sex play. I was glad he was pleased, though.

“Take off the rest of your clothes and lie down on your back.”

I have never stripped so fast. I hurried to get onto the mattress, and Daniel sat next to me and said, “I want to cuff your wrists. Are you ready for that?”

I nodded, eyes wide, but then said, “I don’t have any cuffs.”

He grinned and reached into his coat pocket, bringing out a pair of handcuffs. I put my wrists together over my head and waited as Dan cuffed one wrist, threaded the chain through the metal curlicues of my headboard, and then cuffed the other.

Then he climbed onto the bed with me and settled himself between my thighs. “Some bondage and dominance games are all about pain,” he said. “But I like to play back and forth. Pain and pleasure. Pain and pleasure. Until you don’t know which way is up. I am going to let you come because you took your spanking so well. Then we’ll do something for me.”

I wished like hell he’d tell me what. I wanted to be able to process the future. But he didn’t. And then his tongue was on my pussy again, and the future was a long way off. Dan peeled open my pussy lips with his fingertips and began to lick in sweet circles all around my clit.

“Oh, God,” I couldn’t help but moan.

“You like that?”

“Yes, Daniel.”

“Sir. Call me Sir in the bedroom.”

I stuttered over the word. “Yes, Sir.”

“Would you like me to put a finger in your ass?”

Nobody had ever talked like this to me. Maybe I’d been dating the wrong types of men, but I’d only ever had simple sex. Where you get undressed and fuck. He was pushing my limits of experience without doing much at all.

“Yes,” I told him. He looked up at me. I didn’t know what he was waiting for. And then I remembered. “Yes, Sir.”

Daniel licked one of his fingers and began to skate it around my asshole while he resumed licking my pussy. I tugged at the handcuffs, unable to keep myself still. The pleasure was mind-boggling, the way he toyed with me, working his pointer against my rear hole while sucking on my clit. Then pushing his fingertip inside me while he teased my pussy with light kisses. I thought I was going to die from the intensity, and then I thought I was going to come.

He started to fuck my ass with his finger while he ringed my clit with his lips and sucked. I came in a wave of white heat, my body trembling, the sound of the jangling chain a strange melody against the brass headboard, a song I’d never heard before. Dan didn’t stop licking my clit, didn’t let up on my asshole until the vibrations had completely subsided. Only then did he roll me over, the handcuff chain twisting, so that I was on my stomach and he was behind me.

“Now, I get a turn,” he said.

I looked over my shoulder. He was pulling his belt free from the loops of his slacks. I bit my lip as I watched him double the leather and make the belt snap.

“You took your spanking so well,” he said. “I want to see how you respond to the leather.”

I steeled myself as well as I could. I had never been whipped before, never played games like this with a lover. I hoped I would please him — that was the only thought in my mind. I needed to please him.

“Five and a break,” he said, and then he struck the first blow. I stayed still. I closed my eyes. I counted one silently in my mind. He let the second stroke land, and I rocked my hips against the mattress, feeling the flickering of a new orgasm begin inside me. The pain was playing its dark magic on me. I could feel the heat in the stripes on my ass, but somehow my pussy was electrified. He struck a third and a fourth, and I opened my eyes and stared at him over my shoulder. The fifth blow made me moan, and he locked eyes with me and gave me a look I couldn’t decipher. And then I realized — he was proud of me.

“I knew what you’d look like when I saw you reading at the counter,” he said, stripping off his shirt.

“What do you mean?”

“I saw you bound. I knew your eyes would take on this bright glow. I knew your body would seem to shimmer with light. You were made to be whipped.”

I tossed my dark hair out of my face. I drew in a big swallow of air. How had he known? I didn’t want to ask. But I couldn’t help myself.

“How?”

He shook his head and climbed onto the bed with me, palming my hot asscheeks. He spread me open, bent down and licked my hole, and I cried out. The sensations were overwhelming. I was clay in his hands, ready to be molded, modeled into something new.

“You have a choice,” he said.

“Yes, Sir.”

“I can give you the final five blows and then fuck you. Or I can fuck you first, and give you ten after.”

“Fuck me.” I didn’t even hesitate. I needed to feel his cock inside me.

“You’re sure.”

“Yes,” I told him, “Yes, Sir. Please.”

He was off the bed once more, taking off his boots, his slacks, his boxers. Then he climbed behind me on the bed and positioned me on my knees, my bound wrists in front of me resting on a pillow. He slowly slid his cock into my pussy. I held still. I wanted to grind my hips back against him. I wanted to force him to fuck me. But I knew my place. Let him set the pace. Let him make the rules.

Still, it was torture for me to wait. My whole body was screaming to be fucked. I’ve never wanted a man inside me more than I did right then. But he slid only the head into my opening, and then he lightly held on to my hips and waited.

He had to start fucking me soon, didn’t he? He had to take pity on me and slam his cock in me to the core.

Nothing.

“Please, Sir,” I whimpered when I could wait no longer. Was that wrong? I’d find out.

“Please what, baby?”

“Fuck me. Just fuck me.”

“Like this?” He slid further inside me, millimeter by millimeter. I was out of my head. Without thinking, I pressed my body back against his, until we were sealed together, and then I pulled forward. In seconds, I was fucking him, doing all the work, ringing my pleasure for the steel-pole of his cock.

“Greedy girl,” he said under his breath. “You need to be taken, don’t you? You need to be tamed.”

I didn’t pause. I kept working my body on his until he gripped my waist and held me firmly in his hands. And then he was fucking me. He was pounding his body against mine exactly as I’d fantasized he would. I felt relief flood through me from my toes to the tips of my fingers. My whole body seemed to sigh. He spoke to me while he rode me, “You need someone who can read the signs, don’t you? Someone who will cuff you at night and punish that sweet ass of yours. Someone who will paddle you when you’ve been a bad girl. Who will punish you when you misbehave.”

I was coming not only on his cock but on his words. I was coming because he had reached into my hidden desires and was spreading them out in the light, describing every last filthy fantasy I’d ever had.

“I can do that,” Daniel said. “I can be the one who will tame you. And you’ll love every fucking minute.”

“Yes, Sir,” I managed to whisper as I came. “Yes, Sir.” He rubbed my clit firmly as the contractions spiraled through me, and I saw red behind my closed lids. I’d never had a climax like that before, one that left me wrung out and breathless. But Daniel hadn’t come yet. I could feel how hard he still was inside me. He hadn’t come at all, and I’d already climaxed twice.

Then I remembered what he’d offered me. Five now or ten later. I wasn’t completely surprised when he pulled out, when he got next to the bed once more and lifted his belt. I wasn’t surprised when he had me kiss the tip before raining those final ten blows on my naked, upturned ass. He stood in front of me afterward, and I sucked his cock hard for him, feeling him pound my throat just as fiercely as he’d taken my pussy.

Then he uncuffed me and spread me face-up on the bed, before climbing over me missionary style. I wrapped my legs around his waist. I held on to his arms as he worked me. And I thought of everything he’d promised.

“I want you to do all you said,” I told him, staring into his gray eyes. “I want you to spank me every night. To use your hand, or a ruler, or your belt, or a paddle.”

He’d opened a vault inside me. The desires came pouring out.

“Sir,” I continued, “I need it all. I need you to blindfold me. Cuff me. Work me.”

“I will.” It was a promise, and then he was coming, filling me up with his seed as he reached his limits. I closed my eyes and basked in the warmth of him, thinking that it had all started with a book of retro porn. But that the end of our Story of Ohhh was far, far away.

" />

The Story of Ohhh

Storyline

Bondage in a book is one thing, but when real life steps in, Meghan gets a happy ending she wasn’t expecting.

I was reading at the deli counter again. One of my favorite things to do is relax at lunchtime with a book. For some reason, I can tune out ambient noises with someone else’s words running through my mind. But on this day, everything went haywire. Granted, I’d been a bit risqué in my choice of reading material, selecting a classic erotic book that anyone in the know would recognize: black font on a white cover, the short title leaving little to the imagination. A book considered by many to be the grand dame of erotica.

I kept the paperback down on the counter, sipped my coffee, took bites of my sandwich, and lost myself in smut written more than half a century ago. That is, until my handsome waiter paused to whisper in my ear, “That’s one of my favorites.”

My cheeks went pink. I hadn’t thought anyone was paying attention. He poured me a refill and asked, “Are you reading for entertainment? Or trying to pick up tips?”

“I thought you were the one working for tips,” I shot back, trying to find my footing in the conversation. He smiled at me. He’d served me before — I mean, he’d been my waiter — on previous occasions. But this was the first time I felt a flicker between us. He set one hand gently on top of mine, and in seconds, the flicker had become a full-on flame. I felt a rush all the way through my body.

Just as quickly, he moved away. I watched, feeling robbed, as he maneuvered through the throng of customers to fill another lady’s cup, and I felt a pang of jealousy work through me. I didn’t think I could go back to reading the book now, but I didn’t want to leave the restaurant either. Finally, I ripped out the title page of the paperback, wrote my name and number on it, and left the page along with my payment beneath my cup.

If he called, he called. If he didn’t, I’d have to find a new place to eat lunch and go home to a vibrator and porn.

As it turned out, my cell phone started ringing before I’d reached the car.

“Meghan,” he said. “I like that name.”

“Thank you,” I responded. My voice was shaking.

“I want to see you tonight,” he continued. “Where do you live?”

I gave him my address and spent the rest of the afternoon trying not to leave a wet stain on my chair. What had gotten into me? I didn’t think I had much in common with the heroine in the book — nothing except that we both apparently went in for unexpected bondage. It was the way the waiter had touched me that left me in this state, the way he’d looked into my eyes and made silent promises. Oh, I was gone all right, into the heady, la-la land of kinky fairytales. I warned myself to slow down. I didn’t know this man at all.

In fact, I didn’t even know his name.

But maybe that’s what made everything so exciting. The fact that I dressed six different times before landing on an outfit I felt was appropriate — a turquoise halter dress that hugged my figure and showed off my cleavage. The fact that I paced back and forth in my living room, thinking every set of headlights was going to be his. The fact that when he rang the doorbell, I nearly melted at his feet in a pool of unrequited lust.

He was dressed differently from the way he had been at work, as I could have expected. He had on black slacks, boots, a white button-down shirt, and a black jacket. He looked sleek and sexy, and he smiled at me as if he could read every dirty desire that danced through my mind. Then he brought a bouquet of red roses from behind his back. “They’re beautiful,” I said, carrying the blooms into the kitchen to find a vase while he hung his jacket from my coat rack.

“Mind the thorns,” he said, and I felt myself start to tremble all over again.

“I don’t even know your name,” I told him, figuring that the longer I waited to ask the more awkward things would get.

“My name’s Daniel,” he answered, and then, before I could say, “Pleased to meet you” or engage in any standard chitchat, he added: “I don’t even know your safeword.”

Oh, my heart. The pounding was getting louder and faster. I took a deep breath that was more of a gulp, and Daniel lifted one of the roses from the vase and trailed the petals along the underside of my throat. I shut my eyes. My panties were wet. My lips parted. What was he doing to me?

“Safeword,” he said again, and this time he turned the flower and ever so gently raked the thorns up the bare skin of one arm and down the other. I shivered all over at the prickly sensation. Had I thought I was wet before? If I didn’t get out of these clothes soon, Daniel would be able to see the proof of my arousal himself.

“I’ve never had one before,” I told him honestly.

He smiled and waited. The rose was still in his hands, and this time he dragged the petals over the skin he’d just tormented. I took a tremulous breath and said, “Queen.”

“Why?”

“Crimson Queen are my favorite roses,” I told him, and he flipped the stem once more. This time he lifted the hem of my dress and lightly dragged the thorns down the insides of my thighs. I pressed back against the tiled kitchen counter and watched him. I wanted to lean back, to close my eyes, to lose myself in the feeling of this beautiful man doing dirty things to me. But then I wouldn’t be able to watch, and I wanted to own this scene forever.

“Take off your dress,” he said.

I undid the tie at the back of my neck and pulled the halter-style dress down past my waist, past my hips, shimmying out of the formfitting fabric until it lay on the floor. Now I was only wearing a black strapless bra, matching panties, and my cork-soled sandals.

“Turn around,” he said, “and bend over the counter.”

My pussy clenched so tight. I felt as if I were on the edge of a cliff, about to take a step into the unknown. And all this was happening because I’d dared to read vintage porn at a busy delicatessen.

Quickly, I did what he requested, and I saw in the reflection on the chrome toaster as he reached for one of my wooden spoons from the container by the stove and then returned to my side.

“Have you ever been spanked?”

I shook my head.

“You answer me when I ask you a question.”

“No, Daniel,” I said. “Not ever.”

“Do you want me to spank you?”

I arched my back for him, so that my ass was ripe and ready.

“Yes,” I said, then as an afterthought, “please.”

“I’m going to give you ten. We’ll see how you handle the pain.”

Then he started, the back of the spoon heating my asscheeks even through my satin panties. I stayed still for the spanking, my palms on the cool tile, my breathing speeding up. I didn’t know what to think of this. I’d never had a man punish my ass before. But I was fully aware of the wetness seeping out of me. I knew that if Daniel decided to feel my pussy for himself, my body would tell him exactly what he needed to know.

At ten, he set the spoon on the counter and did precisely what I’d hoped. He dragged my panties down my legs, and then he bent on the floor behind me and pressed his face to my split. “Oh, fuck, you’re wet,” he said against my naked skin. “Your pussy is positively dripping.”

He licked me while I did my best to stay still, and then he stood and bit the back of my neck, pressing his cock against me through his slacks. I wanted to tell him to fuck me. If I’d been out with a different man, if there hadn’t been this sexy power play between us, I would have turned and batted my eyelashes and told him I was hungry for him. But being with Daniel had set me off balance. I didn’t know how I should act. I waited for his next instruction, relieved when he said, “Take me to your bedroom.”

On shaky legs, I stood and led the way. Dan grabbed his coat from the foyer and followed me. When we got to the room, he said, “Your bed is perfect.”

I’d never thought about it before. The brass bed was a hand-me-down, one that suited the purpose for sleep, but one I’d never considered for sex play. I was glad he was pleased, though.

“Take off the rest of your clothes and lie down on your back.”

I have never stripped so fast. I hurried to get onto the mattress, and Daniel sat next to me and said, “I want to cuff your wrists. Are you ready for that?”

I nodded, eyes wide, but then said, “I don’t have any cuffs.”

He grinned and reached into his coat pocket, bringing out a pair of handcuffs. I put my wrists together over my head and waited as Dan cuffed one wrist, threaded the chain through the metal curlicues of my headboard, and then cuffed the other.

Then he climbed onto the bed with me and settled himself between my thighs. “Some bondage and dominance games are all about pain,” he said. “But I like to play back and forth. Pain and pleasure. Pain and pleasure. Until you don’t know which way is up. I am going to let you come because you took your spanking so well. Then we’ll do something for me.”

I wished like hell he’d tell me what. I wanted to be able to process the future. But he didn’t. And then his tongue was on my pussy again, and the future was a long way off. Dan peeled open my pussy lips with his fingertips and began to lick in sweet circles all around my clit.

“Oh, God,” I couldn’t help but moan.

“You like that?”

“Yes, Daniel.”

“Sir. Call me Sir in the bedroom.”

I stuttered over the word. “Yes, Sir.”

“Would you like me to put a finger in your ass?”

Nobody had ever talked like this to me. Maybe I’d been dating the wrong types of men, but I’d only ever had simple sex. Where you get undressed and fuck. He was pushing my limits of experience without doing much at all.

“Yes,” I told him. He looked up at me. I didn’t know what he was waiting for. And then I remembered. “Yes, Sir.”

Daniel licked one of his fingers and began to skate it around my asshole while he resumed licking my pussy. I tugged at the handcuffs, unable to keep myself still. The pleasure was mind-boggling, the way he toyed with me, working his pointer against my rear hole while sucking on my clit. Then pushing his fingertip inside me while he teased my pussy with light kisses. I thought I was going to die from the intensity, and then I thought I was going to come.

He started to fuck my ass with his finger while he ringed my clit with his lips and sucked. I came in a wave of white heat, my body trembling, the sound of the jangling chain a strange melody against the brass headboard, a song I’d never heard before. Dan didn’t stop licking my clit, didn’t let up on my asshole until the vibrations had completely subsided. Only then did he roll me over, the handcuff chain twisting, so that I was on my stomach and he was behind me.

“Now, I get a turn,” he said.

I looked over my shoulder. He was pulling his belt free from the loops of his slacks. I bit my lip as I watched him double the leather and make the belt snap.

“You took your spanking so well,” he said. “I want to see how you respond to the leather.”

I steeled myself as well as I could. I had never been whipped before, never played games like this with a lover. I hoped I would please him — that was the only thought in my mind. I needed to please him.

“Five and a break,” he said, and then he struck the first blow. I stayed still. I closed my eyes. I counted one silently in my mind. He let the second stroke land, and I rocked my hips against the mattress, feeling the flickering of a new orgasm begin inside me. The pain was playing its dark magic on me. I could feel the heat in the stripes on my ass, but somehow my pussy was electrified. He struck a third and a fourth, and I opened my eyes and stared at him over my shoulder. The fifth blow made me moan, and he locked eyes with me and gave me a look I couldn’t decipher. And then I realized — he was proud of me.

“I knew what you’d look like when I saw you reading at the counter,” he said, stripping off his shirt.

“What do you mean?”

“I saw you bound. I knew your eyes would take on this bright glow. I knew your body would seem to shimmer with light. You were made to be whipped.”

I tossed my dark hair out of my face. I drew in a big swallow of air. How had he known? I didn’t want to ask. But I couldn’t help myself.

“How?”

He shook his head and climbed onto the bed with me, palming my hot asscheeks. He spread me open, bent down and licked my hole, and I cried out. The sensations were overwhelming. I was clay in his hands, ready to be molded, modeled into something new.

“You have a choice,” he said.

“Yes, Sir.”

“I can give you the final five blows and then fuck you. Or I can fuck you first, and give you ten after.”

“Fuck me.” I didn’t even hesitate. I needed to feel his cock inside me.

“You’re sure.”

“Yes,” I told him, “Yes, Sir. Please.”

He was off the bed once more, taking off his boots, his slacks, his boxers. Then he climbed behind me on the bed and positioned me on my knees, my bound wrists in front of me resting on a pillow. He slowly slid his cock into my pussy. I held still. I wanted to grind my hips back against him. I wanted to force him to fuck me. But I knew my place. Let him set the pace. Let him make the rules.

Still, it was torture for me to wait. My whole body was screaming to be fucked. I’ve never wanted a man inside me more than I did right then. But he slid only the head into my opening, and then he lightly held on to my hips and waited.

He had to start fucking me soon, didn’t he? He had to take pity on me and slam his cock in me to the core.

Nothing.

“Please, Sir,” I whimpered when I could wait no longer. Was that wrong? I’d find out.

“Please what, baby?”

“Fuck me. Just fuck me.”

“Like this?” He slid further inside me, millimeter by millimeter. I was out of my head. Without thinking, I pressed my body back against his, until we were sealed together, and then I pulled forward. In seconds, I was fucking him, doing all the work, ringing my pleasure for the steel-pole of his cock.

“Greedy girl,” he said under his breath. “You need to be taken, don’t you? You need to be tamed.”

I didn’t pause. I kept working my body on his until he gripped my waist and held me firmly in his hands. And then he was fucking me. He was pounding his body against mine exactly as I’d fantasized he would. I felt relief flood through me from my toes to the tips of my fingers. My whole body seemed to sigh. He spoke to me while he rode me, “You need someone who can read the signs, don’t you? Someone who will cuff you at night and punish that sweet ass of yours. Someone who will paddle you when you’ve been a bad girl. Who will punish you when you misbehave.”

I was coming not only on his cock but on his words. I was coming because he had reached into my hidden desires and was spreading them out in the light, describing every last filthy fantasy I’d ever had.

“I can do that,” Daniel said. “I can be the one who will tame you. And you’ll love every fucking minute.”

“Yes, Sir,” I managed to whisper as I came. “Yes, Sir.” He rubbed my clit firmly as the contractions spiraled through me, and I saw red behind my closed lids. I’d never had a climax like that before, one that left me wrung out and breathless. But Daniel hadn’t come yet. I could feel how hard he still was inside me. He hadn’t come at all, and I’d already climaxed twice.

Then I remembered what he’d offered me. Five now or ten later. I wasn’t completely surprised when he pulled out, when he got next to the bed once more and lifted his belt. I wasn’t surprised when he had me kiss the tip before raining those final ten blows on my naked, upturned ass. He stood in front of me afterward, and I sucked his cock hard for him, feeling him pound my throat just as fiercely as he’d taken my pussy.

Then he uncuffed me and spread me face-up on the bed, before climbing over me missionary style. I wrapped my legs around his waist. I held on to his arms as he worked me. And I thought of everything he’d promised.

“I want you to do all you said,” I told him, staring into his gray eyes. “I want you to spank me every night. To use your hand, or a ruler, or your belt, or a paddle.”

He’d opened a vault inside me. The desires came pouring out.

“Sir,” I continued, “I need it all. I need you to blindfold me. Cuff me. Work me.”

“I will.” It was a promise, and then he was coming, filling me up with his seed as he reached his limits. I closed my eyes and basked in the warmth of him, thinking that it had all started with a book of retro porn. But that the end of our Story of Ohhh was far, far away.

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