Erotica: Bound By Wild Desire


posted by on Fictionalized, Sexuality

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also a part of the “Boys” series

She showed up barely buzzed, with a bag of fun. Barely buzzed suited neither of them so she helped herself to his tequila. He drank tequila instead of rum, to differentiate himself from Hunter S. Thompson. She could neither imagine him reading nor writing.

Idle chit chat and flirtation ensued until they were plastered. They fooled around, eager hands and mouths slipping this way and that.

Knowing much about one another was unnecessary. Both were into BDSM. He even owned a spreader bar for Christ sake. Booze and BDSM, that was all they needed to know.

They staggered to the bedroom, bag in hand. She whipped out her newly purchased black, nylon ropes and handed them over, only slightly fearful, mostly excited.

He pushed her to the floor. Her wrists were subserviently bound behind her. The remainder of the rope was wound repeatedly up and down her body, mostly interestingly between her legs, over her pussy.

What was he doing? She hoped he’d slam himself roughly into her. Instead his lanky body loomed over her and he mouthfucked her.

At first she was disappointed that the trussing up was culminating in a bj. Though she didn’t blame him, they were sparse in their arrangement. As she squirmed this way and that, her clit was pleasantly abrased by the rope.

After a while he freed her and dragged her to the bed. They fucked under a red bulb, The Doors blaring, until they came.

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