Regret 12

All participants in this imaginary tale are imagined well over the age of consent (18).

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The last time we talked, I talked you into our old bad habits. Into being bad again for the sake of pleasure. I know were miles away, and I know it's just text, but being bad is addicting. And when you caved I knew we were going to have fun, and text each other to an orgasm or two apiece. But something always comes up, and you told me you were going to take your toy for a joyride.

I wanted so bad to hear from you again, while you fucked yourself. To read your messages as you imagined what I would say. What I would do to you. I know I was in a compromising situation, but that's what makes it fun. I wanted to send you a message about what I was imagining, about what I wanted to be doing. But you stopped responding as I imagine you were watching a video and cumming with your toy buried inside you.

So here's what I am thinking about now.

You are on your knees in front of me, hands bound behind your back with your forearms tightly together. You are only wearing a low-cut blouse and a push-up bra to pop your breasts out. I can just see your pussy between your legs as you try to rest in such a way to preserve your modesty.

The first thing I do to you is grab you by your hair and pull you gently up so you are sitting upon your knees, and no longer leaning back upon your calves. I wedge a foot between your knees and gently kick at them from the inside, and watch as you spread them and begin to sink down in to a half split. Now that your back is straight, the bonds holding your arms behind you are showing their work, and your chest is prominently on display. And your eyes are staring straight ahead at the button on my jeans.

You subconsciously open your mouth a tiny bit and I hear you gasp as you know what's coming. I kneel to your level and grab you by the chin so your face is pulled directly at me and I stare into your eyes.

"I know you have missed this. Being treated like this. Being owned. And I am going to give you what you want, and take what I want from you." As I speak to you my free hand is rubbing your clit softly, gently. Delicately searching out every fold. You begin to feel a warming sensation that causes you to shiver as it ripples across your wanting sex. You moan softly as you realize my hand was covered in a warming oil, that's causing you to throb as it warms and is cooled by the stray breeze.

The hand on your chin clutches at your neck, restricting your airflow. As you feel your heartbeat in your throat, you see me reach under you again, holding something you can't make out. You recognize it as I begin pushing it inside of you, one bump at a time. That rubber anal bead wand you left out is being forced inside your pussy, just slow enough that you can feel every ridge, until the largest one rests inside of you.

Finally, I let you go, to gasp for air while I stand up. "I expect you to stay on your knees like that. I expect you to not cum. And I expect you to thank me when I am done."

With that, I unzip my pants and pull myself out of them.

You stare at my cock, bobbing in front of your face, a sight you haven't seen for a couple of years. I can read the look in your eyes as you are mesmerized by it, I can see you wondering if it has always been this big. I can see you shudder as a draft rolls in, chilling your clit suddenly. And as you open your mouth to let out a moan, that is when I force myself past your lips.

I am not gentle, but neither am I rough. You close your eyes so you can focus on what you are feeling, as I force myself steadily down your throat. I push until you resist, over half of me inside you. My hands are on your head, holding it in place as I pull out, savoring your lips on my shaft. When I am almost out to the tip, I push in again, just as steady. I know what you want. I know you want to be an object. Someone to be tied up and fucked. Someone who has no control of the pleasure. I know you want me to ram myself down your throat over and over. To fuck you and use you and cum down your throat. And so I enjoy going slow. I enjoy hearing you moan around my cock, shuddering and clenching at the toy inside you. I enjoy knowing you want more, and yet, you love that I don't care about your wants.

I build a steady rhythm, as if I was making love to your mouth. Neither pounding into you, nor drawing it out. And when I release your head, you are only too happy to continue without help. Bobbing your head along my shaft, you take advantage of the freedom to lick along it. I watch as you run your tongue up to the head and then engulf it, and feel as you swirl your tongue around my tip. I watch as you close your eyes once more and duck beneath me to try and lap at my sack, while my wet cock rests across your face. And as I look past your loving attention, I see you thrusting your hips against the air, trying to create some kind of movement to ease the fire the oils and your own lust have set upon you. I can just make out your ass flexing from where I stand over you. I can see you flexing to squeeze and clench at your toy, wanting it deeper, wishing there were more and larger beads on it.

I pull you away from your work, a long trail of drool clinging to you, connecting you to the tip of my cock, and I tell you to open wide. When you oblige, I shove myself into you again. This time I am trying to cum, and I am using you as my toy. My lubrication is the drool you have amassed while trying to please me, and it helps me slide deep into your throat, past where your gag reflexes would try and stop you. My hands are no longer guiding, they are merely holding you steady so I can ram myself into your mouth. You can feel me building, you've swallowed enough of me in the past to know I am close. I feel you moaning around my dick as you cum anyway, the thrill of being my fuck doll becoming too much for you. Finally, as you shake and spasm, I moan as well and pull myself out of your mouth, leaving a trail of spit and precum dripping down your chin. Just as you are ready to open your eyes, you feel my cum raining down on your face and breasts, coating your clothes. Marking you as my plaything. I wipe my dick off on your face before putting it away.

As I leave, I turn back to look at you, shuddering in post orgasm, with cum down your blouse and breasts, so proudly on display for anyone else who comes in after me. I tell you to enjoy going home without a spare set of clothes.