~ erotica ~
My clit throbbed. I hadn't cum yet. The rope had only been on me for a few minutes.
He'd taken out the coil, my rope, and knelt in front of me. I'd let my hands laze in his hair as he worked. Wrapped once around my hips. Once under my ass. Knotted. Threaded the rope down between my lips. Brought it back up. Made a knot. Pulled tight through my pussy. Passed under the bands in back. Yanked down. Ran under the bottom band. Brought the rope back up. Tied it again. Tight. Knotted the excess around my waist loosely.
"Good. Go put in the laundry."
My face asked a question; my voice was silent.
"You heard me. Go put in the laundry."
I harrumphed before walking away.
Immediately, with my first step, I felt it. Every movement was different. Every swish of my hips. I bent to pick up the basket. I took the stairs to the basement. I filled the washer, bending and lifting. Never had a hated choir been so fun. I bounced back up the stairs. Up was so much more fun than down.
I stood in front of him.
"Sit," he said.
And here I am now. Minutes later.
He looms over me. I can't help but squirm in my chair. Even the slightest movement is wondrous. Full of an almost guilty pleasure.
He just looks down on me and smiles.
"Stop."
"But..."
"Stop."
I don't move.
But I can't not move. I bite my forefinger. And pulse. Pulse my clit against the knot. And look up at him with my puppy dog eyes. I beg without words. Let him see my torment. My pain. He loves to see my pain.
He bends down. Whispers into me ear.
"Go to bed."
I gasp, then scamper to our room. Every step is more glorious than the next.
I pull back the covers. Again, I sit. Then lay down. And then writhe. Face down. Snaking my body against mattress. Fucking myself with my rope. With the knot he tied. And it grows. And grows.
I turn my head. He's there. Staring. Smiling.
"Are you close?"
"Almost."
"Get closer."
I ease my hips up and down. I feel him watching me. My breathing quickens.
"Please?"
He flicks open his knife. I feel a yank on the rope. A moment of ease.
And then he's inside me. And he's pulling the rope in time with his thrusts. And the knot is against my clit. And he's pumping in and out.
And I scream, "Please?"
"Yes."
And I scream again.
Afterwards, I feel a little sad. Until he kisses my cheek, smiles, and says, "It's still long enough for next time."
The Immigrant "Invasion" Is Just WMDs All Over Again
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There is no immigrant invasion at the southern border of the United States.
That needs to be said at the outset any time you wanna talk about What's
Wron...
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