Stranger (5)

He came in the dark. Silently moving across her apartment, slipping into the room where she lay sprawled upon the bed, he took a moment to study her in the dusky light coming through her unadorned window. Reviewing his moves, he slipped out of his sweatpants. Thin leather gloves would caress her skin this time, would slap the cuffs around her wrists, slip the spider gag into her mouth as he sat on her tits. His back to the light would ensure that she would not be able to see him, until he slid the silken mask over her head.

It was like a sadistic ballet. The timing was perfect–and needed to be. He all but leapt upon the bed, upon her, his moves fluid. His knees slid up to her armpits, his hands capturing her forearms. In seconds she was cuffed to the headboard, the lovely old iron railings so perfect for this.

He felt her struggles beneath him, the kicking of her legs, but he paid no attention. Her mouth opened and closed, gasping half-formed words as she woke to shock and confusion. The gag slid into her mouth perfectly, her arms jerking, as she tried at the last moment to avoid it. The mask slid over her rumpled hair, hiding her eyes. The hole in the mask aligned perfectly with her open mouth. In a quick move, he was off of her, heard her gasp a deep breath now that he wasn’t perched on her rack. Snatching the rope from the floor, he grabbed both legs, half laying on her again, and began wrapping her ankles together.

“What a pretty mermaid you are,” he chuckled meanly. Though she bucked and writhed, she was well and truly caught. The noises from her mouth were unpleasant, and his cock was rock hard from them. So sexy, those gasping honks. No words, just the sounds of a captive animal.

He slapped her cheek with his shaft; she jolted. More high-pitched noises erupted from her open mouth hole.

“I hope you’re hungry darling. But first…”

He slipped down, until his ass was resting on her belly. Slapping left to right, right to left, he attacked her tits. Bobbling madly from each blow, even in this semi-dark he could see them start to pinken, the nipples to flush with blood. He slapped hard, the sounds echoing in the room. When his hands began to sting, he slapped the two meatbags together, let them fall, slapped them together. Watching them shake and jiggle tightened his cock further. The sounds she was making were insane. Guttural  grunts, the gurgle of saliva. Yes, she was ready now. He dropped her tits, and slid up, his balls massaged by her soft skin. Rising up to his knees, he positioned his shaft, running the tip along her bottom lip. Turning away wasn’t an option for her, her head trapped between her arms, her arms constricted by his legs.

If he was a gentleman, he would have teased her more. Would have slid his rigid length along her tongue. Instead, he hammered her throat. Held himself buried in her heat, felt her throat closing around him, the quick hitching spasm of her gag as her body tried, vainly, to expel him. He moaned, counting silently to 20. Pulling out, he let her gag, allowed her to inhale, one breath,two, before punching his cock into her face again. He fucked, ruthless, brutal, raping her lips, her tongue, her throat. Again, holding her breath hostage, he gritted his teeth, thinking of ice cubes and glaciers, willing his balls not to shoot straight into her stomach.

He pulled away.

The mask was wet from tears, he could see the blotches where her eyes would be. Spittle soaked the mouth hole. He imagined her face was shiny and sticky with it. She’d be sticky with more than that soon. His cock lurched, and he tried actively to not explode; viciously remembered falling into a cold mountain stream while hiking, how his balls had lurched so far inside he felt them under his heart. Despite the frigid memory, the tip of his shaft was oozing, red and angry and throbbing, demanding release.

He had better control than that.

She was making small noises. He ignored them, lest he lose control and shoot his spunk everywhere. Sliding from her, he grasped her legs, tossing her to her side. His gloved fingers plunged into her cunt.

“You’re fucking soaked. Slut. Whore. You scream and whine, but your cunt is begging for this.”

He sank, balls deep, on his first thrust. He fucked her roughly, using her like the fuckhole she was, each punch of his cock a slam against her exposed pussy. Her whining became whimpers and he knew she was close. He pulled out, flipped her to her back, and had his shaft in her throat before she could react.

“Taste that. Your cunt-juice all over me.”


He took her throat in his hands feeling his cock shove past her gag, past point of reason. He felt her jerk, twitching violently on the end of his shaft, before he slid just enough for her to catch her breath. On her third gasping wheeze, his cock erupted, filling her mouth.

He used his penis to plunge every last drop into her throat.




5 thoughts on “Stranger (5)”

    1. Yesss! It’s totally wrong. Totally not how we do this…. but fantasy of the wrong is powerful stuff. Truly it sometimes shocks me, the dark things in my head that I never think about until they fly out of my fingers.


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