empty. Then Rick was gone, too, and for a moment everything was too solitary and quiet for me to process. I cried out an objection but it faded from my lips when a pair of hands tugged at my shoulders, urging me to stand.
I did, and found myself wrapped in Max’s strong arms. I nearly collapsed from dizziness and confusion when I found my feet, but he caught me and sat, tucking me onto his lap. I let myself sink into him, pressing my face against his chest, my entire world focused on the close-up of the dark inkwork that framed his collarbone. His hands slid over my skin in gentle caresses, avoiding sensitive areas. After a time my breathing felt less irregular and the room finally came back into focus. I realized that my weeping pussy was probably destroying his leather pants, not to mention the sticky residue of the lube that remained on the backs of my thighs. All those sensations seemed beyond my comprehension, though, and I wasn’t quite sure how to deal with them. Max didn’t seem to mind, though, so I decided I wouldn’t worry about it, either.
I let out a slow, stuttering breath and tilted my head up to smile at him.
Max smiled back down at me, his face filled with concern that barely concealed a raw need. His cock was the next thing that drew my attention, its hard length pressed bruisingly into my hip, but he didn’t seem to be as aware of its presence as I was.
“Are you thirsty?” he asked, reaching for a fresh water bottle. I nodded and he tilted the bottle to my lips for me to drink. His brows drew together and he looked thoughtful while I swallowed the water in thirsty gulps.
“I’d tell you if I wasn’t okay with this, you know that, right?” I asked softly when he pulled the bottle away from my lips. “I want this,” I said. “I love this.”
His face relaxed and he rubbed my thigh. “We can take a break if you want, or try something different. It’s up to you.”
I eyed the bundles of pale rope Rick had left on the counter. “What do you do with those?” I asked, my mind already running through all the possibilities. There was a lot of rope so I had trouble coming up with scenarios that would require so much of it.
Rick wandered over and picked up one of the bound coils and released one end of it, letting it fall to the floor unwinding as it went. He’d put his jeans back on but they did little to conceal his arousal. I was every bit as fascinated by their reactions to me as to the potential fun we could have together next.
“We tie you up,” Rick said. “My personal favorite part. I’m out of practice, though. If I’d known I would be doing this today I would have brought my camera.”
“What? Why?” I asked.
Max shifted under me. “He used to have a reputation in our old circle for being the master of knotwork. Most popular bondage Dom at the club. And with work that elaborate, he’d make a point of recording it.”
“I improvised sometimes,” Rick clarified. “And I liked keeping a record. Never shared any of the videos, though. But if Lola liked something specific, she usually wanted me to repeat it so I had to know what I’d done.”
“What was your specialty at the club?” I asked, looking at Max.
He smirked at me and gave my thigh a light smack. “What do you think?”
“Oh,” I said and smiled. “I like that. But I want to know what it’s like to have both.”
“You were cuffed to the bed last night,” Max said. “Did you like that?”
I nodded. “But I have a feeling this is different, isn’t it?”
Rick wandered toward us, trailing the rope behind him. He squatted down in front of me, and took both my hands, looping a doubled length of rope around my wrists and tugging until it was snug. The silken tails of the rope slid along my thighs, tickling as he wrapped the rope in uniform loops around my legs, binding them together at the knees. “This is very different. The process of tying you is half the fun. What we do when you’re bound is
I did, and found myself wrapped in Max’s strong arms. I nearly collapsed from dizziness and confusion when I found my feet, but he caught me and sat, tucking me onto his lap. I let myself sink into him, pressing my face against his chest, my entire world focused on the close-up of the dark inkwork that framed his collarbone. His hands slid over my skin in gentle caresses, avoiding sensitive areas. After a time my breathing felt less irregular and the room finally came back into focus. I realized that my weeping pussy was probably destroying his leather pants, not to mention the sticky residue of the lube that remained on the backs of my thighs. All those sensations seemed beyond my comprehension, though, and I wasn’t quite sure how to deal with them. Max didn’t seem to mind, though, so I decided I wouldn’t worry about it, either.
I let out a slow, stuttering breath and tilted my head up to smile at him.
Max smiled back down at me, his face filled with concern that barely concealed a raw need. His cock was the next thing that drew my attention, its hard length pressed bruisingly into my hip, but he didn’t seem to be as aware of its presence as I was.
“Are you thirsty?” he asked, reaching for a fresh water bottle. I nodded and he tilted the bottle to my lips for me to drink. His brows drew together and he looked thoughtful while I swallowed the water in thirsty gulps.
“I’d tell you if I wasn’t okay with this, you know that, right?” I asked softly when he pulled the bottle away from my lips. “I want this,” I said. “I love this.”
His face relaxed and he rubbed my thigh. “We can take a break if you want, or try something different. It’s up to you.”
I eyed the bundles of pale rope Rick had left on the counter. “What do you do with those?” I asked, my mind already running through all the possibilities. There was a lot of rope so I had trouble coming up with scenarios that would require so much of it.
Rick wandered over and picked up one of the bound coils and released one end of it, letting it fall to the floor unwinding as it went. He’d put his jeans back on but they did little to conceal his arousal. I was every bit as fascinated by their reactions to me as to the potential fun we could have together next.
“We tie you up,” Rick said. “My personal favorite part. I’m out of practice, though. If I’d known I would be doing this today I would have brought my camera.”
“What? Why?” I asked.
Max shifted under me. “He used to have a reputation in our old circle for being the master of knotwork. Most popular bondage Dom at the club. And with work that elaborate, he’d make a point of recording it.”
“I improvised sometimes,” Rick clarified. “And I liked keeping a record. Never shared any of the videos, though. But if Lola liked something specific, she usually wanted me to repeat it so I had to know what I’d done.”
“What was your specialty at the club?” I asked, looking at Max.
He smirked at me and gave my thigh a light smack. “What do you think?”
“Oh,” I said and smiled. “I like that. But I want to know what it’s like to have both.”
“You were cuffed to the bed last night,” Max said. “Did you like that?”
I nodded. “But I have a feeling this is different, isn’t it?”
Rick wandered toward us, trailing the rope behind him. He squatted down in front of me, and took both my hands, looping a doubled length of rope around my wrists and tugging until it was snug. The silken tails of the rope slid along my thighs, tickling as he wrapped the rope in uniform loops around my legs, binding them together at the knees. “This is very different. The process of tying you is half the fun. What we do when you’re bound is
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