It was very dark, and as soon as she'd said it, she closed her eyes again and gently drifted off. She felt something other than outright exhaustion, and what she had taken earlier may have caused a reaction, but that was kind of where she was at in her life, entrenched in that delicate dance. Trying to unclutter the cascade of medications, prescriptions, and issues that had gotten her to this state. Based upon that foundation, her dreams just then were wild, with Nick carrying her up the driveway to her home. He made her do embarrassingly filthy things to herself while telling him what she was fantasizing about, and told her he wanted to watch her do certain things to herself before he would indulge her further. As soon as one dream would end, another would pick up, with her adjusting her role in them to more closely fit what she thought he'd want.
She later awoke in complete darkness, and ran her fingers instinctively up and down her body, lightly skritching herself. It was something completely innocent that she had done upon waking ever since she was young. Her head had been fuzzy, since before she even ran into Nick, through the car ride home, and now, whenever now was, it felt loads better. She ran her fingers up her neck and realized it was so dark because she had a sleeping mask on. As she reached for it, his hands pried hers apart, and forced them down, one on each side of her head. Her heart instantly began sprinting and she bit her bottom lip as he slithered up to her.
He pinned both her hands above her head with one of his and wrapped a tie of some sort around, over, and through, and cinched it to something past the pillows above her as she sank into the bed. When he finished, he ran his fingers up and down her body, narrowly missing the places she desperately wanted to be touched, running the back of his nails down her body, and the tips of his fingers back up, essentially mimicking what he'd seen her do a moment ago. He continued until her nipples hardened and her body writhed off the bed, magnetized to his hands, and just then he kissed her. His hand along the side of her neck, guiding her lips to his, pulling her to him like he could never get enough.
By then he was tired of denying himself and positioned himself, with her help, where he was kneeling between her legs. Becca moaned for him, feeling him there, and in particular his engorged head pressed upon her other lips. He forced her legs up towards her shoulders and ran it through her mess, she wiggled her hips and rear side to side as the end of his member traced down her area, and then she jumped sharply when he pushed it upwards, gliding along her clit. Seeing that she loved that part the best, her captor used his hand to press his piece firmly down against her spot there, directly where she needed it, and began massaging her with it, left to right, to where he could feel her flesh popping out from beneath it as he shifted each way.
She shifted her body with him, rubbing against him after feeling exactly what he was up to. There was so much she wanted to say, but only moans and primal affirmations would spill out when her mouth fell open. She knew it was him, he didn't have to say a word, she didn't have to move her sleeping mask, it was his touch, or maybe the attention to detail, to her details, and definitely his scent. There were no aphrodisiacs in the world except that. It reminded her of their first time, vividly, and the tangled mess they were. If heaven was perfect, she often thought, it'd be a DVR-type recorder of your entire life, and that's where she'd go, the crease of her elbow around the back of his neck, pulling him onto her as hard as she could, her nose tucked between his shoulder and his neck. This was him, it had to be.
She pulled on her bindings, loving the thought that she was going to be taken by him no matter what, but wishing she could replicate that moment, wanting her arm around his neck. Lost in that moment, she jumped as fingers traced her exposed holes, how he was able to manage all that as well confused her, because he never stopped rubbing her spot with his remarkably hard member. Beneath her mask, her eyes were free to cross and roll back, and the moment his fingertips broke her plane, just barely, it all came to a head and her entire being went dark.
The minute or so that went by felt like an hour in the darkness for Becca, she was still trembling when she finally heard him. He had kissed her breasts, her neck, and then her while she came, but she was only present for the next bit, him at her ear, his deep, sex-filled voice whispering to her, "I love it when you do that." And in a whirlwind, he was flipping her over, powerfully, like she wasn't used to, onto her elbows and knees, wrists still affixed together with silk or something similar, and he squeezed two big handfuls of her ass, and finally set the head of it against her opening and slowly pushed against her, harder and harder until he could finally feel her warmth swallowing him.
"YES!" Becca cried as his head grated slowly in, grinding against every delicate little ridge inside of her. He was gentle and slow, his hands clutched her hips, steadying her until he was nearly half way in, then all the way out, and when he did, long white streaks coated him, then got squeegeed off as he slowly went in again and again, causing a run of it to trickle down. His fingers were soon running through it, as his hands danced around where they were joined. But all she could feel was him inside of her, again, finally. Emotionally, mentally, his apparition, for that moment, she wanted to be with him again, to let him into her life again, but when she started down that rabbit hole, it wasn't a place she needed to go just then, so she eventually returned to the physical. And physically, he made her toes curl and her back arch sharply, and then without a thought about, she pushed back against him a little, rocking with his motion. He wasn't deep, he still seemed guarded in his movements, but when he moved, she could feel every direction being forced out to make room, just enough to make it all feel amazing.
She squeezed her muscles to hold him in, and at the depth he was at, when she did that and shifted her rear higher for him, it felt like he was smashing it against that spot inside. It was like he had nowhere to go except directly against it when he went it, and equal to that, when he'd pull out, all the way, she begged him and God alike that he'd put it right back in where it was. The truth was whether or not he was that good, or any good for that matter, had no bearing on what she was feeling. She had built up this mental image of that moment for years, and her body had been trained by her own hands to respond in that exact way. And it worked. Over and over in a constant flow, it worked perfectly. Only one thing was missing, she released his poor pillow from between her clenched teeth, wiped the streams of tears pouring from beneath the mask onto it, and turned over her shoulder to him, "Play with my ass while you fuck me."
Not the most lady-like way to put it, but to the point, and that point was founded on the blurred lines between the real and her persona she imagined during her multi-year buildup to this point. And no sooner had it effortlessly rolled off her tongue, his grip tightened around her waist, and he began to speed up. Then after running his fingers around through their mess again, he ran two of them in circles, letting the slight movements it made as he slid in and out provide the only pressure. It drove her absolutely mad when he grazed against her back there, but he eventually became much more interested in the way her flesh stuck to him as he slowly pulled out each time. He wrapped two fingers and his thumb around what he hadn't used yet, and began masturbating with the tip still inside of her.
The helplessness, mixed with their unspoken trust, she loved it. And for a long time he alternated between that, and giving her what she had asked for. He eventually told Becca in no quaint terms that he had fantasized for years about doing that inside of her, and that her telling him about her fantasies made him really want to try his. When his fingers were a complete and utter mess, he would simply bring them to her lips, and she would enthusiastically clean them while he fucked her. The way she did it told him she wanted his cock in her mouth instead, but there was no way he was wasting a second of how her body felt. She was close again and he could feel her slowly tensing up, every time it pressed against her spot inside, she got another step closer, and he was ready.
The thought of finally being able to finish with her again, but with no condom this time, there was no stopping it, "I'm not going to stop, Becca, you have to tell him," he said, plunging a little deeper, but still at a good, slow pace that let her feel the distention in her body as he worked. He could feel the friction perfectly against the underneath of his shaft. They were working in waves now, it would build and build, until she would finish again, and slicken everything inside.
