She Visits

He answers the door of the Darlinghurst house, he's been waiting for his friend to visit Sydney again. He received a message from her asking for something different and exciting.

He greets her with a kiss on her lips, running his hands through her long hair, he kisses her again.

She walks in, sits in the chair by the floor light. A scented candle burns on the coffee table, soft music in the background. The room is almost tidy. She reaches forward for something on the table and he hands her the end of a long silk rope "hold this, please" he asks.

The rope is soft and pleasant to touch, and wide. He walks around her chair again and again, brushing her chest as he passes. The silk rope loosely wrapping around her tummy and the chair. Her upper arms beneath the soft rope.

She feels butterflies as the silk rope draws across the top of her legs, nudging her Allanah Hill dress. Upwards.

"May I?" He asks, she hands him the end of the rope and he ties a bow like big soft shoelaces.

Not tightly tied down, she could leave if she chose, yet she can't move at all, frozen by the anticipation. The anticipation building inside of her. She never quite knows what to expect when she's alone with him. She wears a skirt when she wants his intimate attention, jeans or a suit when she does not. The silent invitation speaks for her.

He kisses her long hair, "have you been behaving yourself?" He whispers in her ear, she exhales, giving herself to him. He kneels in front of her, his hands exploring the body of his captive.

His hands slide around her legs, kissing her inner thigh while he pulls her high heels from her feet one at a time, tossing one after the other across the polished timber floor

Kissing her ankle, he slides his hand up, pushing the black dress back. She clenches the rope tightly

He hooks his thumbs around her satin garment, she moves about, allowing the satin to slide past her skin and fall to the floor

On his knees, her tied and helpless, their eyes meet. He reaches behind her, his hands pressing against the small of her back and pulls her forward, the rope tightens, her head tilts back. Their bodies meet at last. He is between he thighs, she feels his masculine legs pressing against her petite frame, her eyes locked on his with intensity. She knows what is about to happen.

"Fuck me", she begs

Not allowing her what she now craves, he draws circles around her pussy with the head of his dick. She feels the warmth of his breath as he kisses her neck, passing over her opening. Wet with anticipation. She tries to move forward and engulf him, the tense rope preventing her advancement.

He draws a line with his hard erection from the opening of her pussy upwards, her dress now only a band around her waist with the silk rope. She heaves. His penis touching her navel, and then between her breasts. Her head tilted forward, looking for a taste.

He runs his fingers through her hair, around the back of her head, gently tilting her back for a kiss. His penis pressed against her exposed breast. His hands tickling her exposed skin. He kisses her again. His thigh pressing against her wet pussy.

"Fuck me" she calls again. He kisses her a third time, both hands cradling her head, sucking her bottom lip and her dress hardly covering her body at all. He gets on one knee and then the other. His penis so close yet not inside her.

His tongue, lips and hands explore her body, tickling her exposed skin. Her back, her breasts, her neck and her tummy and finally her pussy. His tongue exploring her hidden garden. He knows just how she likes it. His hands around her back pulling her closer, his face hard up against her, his mouth fixed is a lustful kiss.

"Oh God, fuck me, please" she begs.

He looks up at her, on his knees again and leaning into the inside of her thighs. "Ok". He thrusts inside her, the wooden chair scrapes on the floor. Her head back again. He has teased her too long this time. She wants to cum before he takes it away from her. He kisses her once more and she bites his lip, the chair creaks and scrapes on the floor. She won't let go.

He pulls the knot on the silk rope, the two ends fall to the floor. She doesn't want to be released, she wraps her legs around his hips. She works her arms free and holds him tight, her eyes locked on his. He lifts her out of the chair. The silk rope falls away. Each time she falls on him he penetrates further, deeper, her body hanging on his coat hook. Her hair tangled with his black curls. He walks about, stumbling, his legs weakened with passion, the scent of her hair and neck make another distraction. She falls against the window, her hands grab the curtains, wrapping the curtains to bind her arms again. He lifts her up, she climbs the curtains and lifts her leg over his shoulder. Her other follows. The curtain rod falls. He stumbles again. Her head strikes the chandelier, the crystal sings and some crash to the floor. The coffee table with the candle. The Antiques, the vase, the photographs falling from the mantle of the Victorian fireplace. He rests her on the ledge. His tongue tastes the very top of her clit, teasing. His mouth gently sucks her clit, licking the tip with the length of his rough masculine tongue.

He places a hand on her breast to hold her on the mantlepiece, the other he gently inserts with the first finger, sliding gently and slowly in and out while he sucks her clit, his tongue tickling the tip. She grips his head tightly with her red fingernails. She looks up towards the ceiling. The chandelier still swinging, dropping crystals now and again, crashing into the polished timber floor.

He feels her thighs tighten around his head. She is close, he still won't allow her to climax. This is his turn to take control, he chooses when she can cum. Her thighs tighten further. The risk accelerates his sex drive. He won't let her. His tongue, lips and hands, completely in control of her pleasure. He feels her shaking around his head, he presses her breasts harder.

She must not fall.

His tongue once again from the very back to the tip, teases the very tip of her clit. So close. She's scared he might stop at any moment. The force building in her. Her body shakes. Her thighs clenched tight, no longer in control of her body. Wet, pressing against his face, she lets go. She releases a loud scream "oh God, dear God, don't stop, don't stop, don't stop" the intensity of the moment carrying her away, her thighs locked around his head. Breathing rapidly. Her thighs clench his head tighter, her hands forcing his head closer into her pussy. Difficult to breath. His lips and tongue working her clit. His finger gently rubbing her g-spot. "Oh God." At any moment she could fall, the risk arousing them both further. Her thighs clench his head tighter. And tighter. "Oh God, I'm cumming" she lets out a loud moan, what's left on the mantle piece shakes, the windows shake. The paint peals from the wall. The room is a mess. The chair kicked over. The silk rope lost, somewhere. She's never cum so hard.

She relaxes her legs, her fingers no longer tearing at his black hair. He can breathe again

He lifts her down. Her private parts sensitive. He wants to make love to her again, she won't let him. Still in the glow of ecstasy, she tries to kiss him. "You taste like me".

They kiss again.

He picks her up like a fireman, slung over his shoulder, Rebecca is whisked away. He climbs the stairs to the upper floor. Strengthened by lust. He throws her onto an old iron bed. White. The soft bedcovers engulf her body. Helpless again as Julio slams his iron bar into her still sensitive pussy. Hammering. Unable to stop him, again she is his captive. He thumps it in again, like the piston on a steam train, driving it into her more and more. His body begins to tremble. She feels his prick pulsing inside her. His hair wet again, working himself hard. Her legs open and he in her space. She feels him shake. And shake. A deep sound comes out of him.

"Cum for me"

"Oar"

She feels his blast inside her. Filled with his aeroplane jelly. He strokes until the last drop, then drops himself on top of her. His cock still inside, twitching. They hold one another for what feels like forever. Breathless. His cock still inside her, slowly deflating, each movement against her vaginal wall making him hard again. Julio's exhausted. Another round not possible.

She pushes him off, his dick slips out. He rolls onto his back. They are both looking up at the ceiling.