Tied Hands: Bound and Begging for More

Tied hands and a soft, knowing smirk from Zuzu Sweet had me in that delicious headspace where bdsm turns from fantasy into flesh, and let me tell you, there was something electric about giving up control to someone who handled it with such gentle, confident care. I remember the scratch of the rope around my wrists, not tight enough to hurt but just snug enough to remind me I was hers for the night, and as she peeled her top off nice and slow, teasing me out of my own clothes with nothing but her eyes, my heart was hammering in my chest like a trapped bird. She had me lying back on the bed before I could even catch my breath, and the way she descended on my cock with that first wet, deliberate stroke of her lips was pure heaven, a slow, torturous blowjob that had me arching off the sheets and biting my lip to keep from begging too soon. She tasted me like she had all the time in the world, and when she finally straddled me, sinking down in cowgirl with her hips rolling in circles that made my vision blur, I could feel every inch of her gripping tight, and she let out this soft, breathy moan that told me I was exactly where she wanted me. Flipping around into reverse cowgirl, she leaned forward so I could watch the curve of her back and the way she worked herself on me, and honest to god, the angle was so fucking good I almost lost it right there, but she peeked over her shoulder with a playful edge, and that restrained me just enough to hang on. As if rewarding my patience, she had me shift into doggy, and let me just say, the way she pushed back against me with each thrust was a primal kind of rhythm, and later when we moved into missionary, with our faces close and her eyes locked on mine, I could see the softness behind the control, and when she finally gave me the nod, I let go inside her with a shaky gasp, utterly spent and ridiculously grateful for that little bit of mercy.