Sex stories

Sex stories




A Fit Up

Clara reappeared in the doorway. In her hand, she had a bowl and a can. Frank couldn't see its contents, but the wicked smile on her face was encouraging. She was silhouetted in the doorway, the mild light from the living room projecting her shadow broadly into the bedroom.

Clara put the items she was carrying down on a dresser beside her. She was in no rush, the urgency of the previous moment having passed. Instead, she seemed to linger with each movement, building the sensation of expectation.

Frank remained static, lying back on the bed and contemplating her from a distance. She was sure of herself, smooth and elegant, with the sexiest of touches surrounding everything she did. She turned away, closing the bedroom door, and in one movement she unzipped her dress from the side, slid it over her shoulders and pushed it down to the floor. She bent over as she did so, exposing her tight buttocks and giving Frank another view, this time unencumbered, of that tantalising underwear. As she righted herself, Frank's pleasure gave way to a vague disappointment. He would have loved to undress her himself, and feel those curves under his fingers again.

As she turned round, his disappointment was brushed quickly aside. The view of her naked torso, her pendulous breasts and aureola were like a vision of renaissance art. She watched his reaction, and smiled. Pushing up her own breasts, massaging them together, and revelling in the powerful hold she had over him, she continued to stare deep into his eyes.

"Tell me," her voice broke the tense silence. "Do you like cherries?" She pronounced the word strangely, and Frank found himself again, wondering about her origins.

"Who doesn't?" He was enjoying the flirtation. Becoming more comfortable with this extraordinary situation, but still unable to take his eyes off her body. He both wanted her to come over, and wanted her to stay framed like a painting in a doorway, and felt the delicious pull between conflicting desires.

Clara picked up the bowl, and walked slowly to the bedside. Her every move was moderated, paced, careful not to break the spell with hurried gestures. She picked a cherry out of the bowl, rolled it around her fingers with a contemplative grin, and then placed it carefully in Frank's open mouth. It was cool, fresh from the fridge, but sweet and crisp. The juice trickled down his throat as they maintained intense, studied eye contact. Clara continued to stare at Frank, as she took another cherry from the bowl, and this time popped it into the front of her black satin pants. She smirked at the involuntary reaction from Frank - not what he'd been expecting at all - and dipped her hand back in to fish the cherry out. It didn't emerge immediately though. Clara rolled it around, probing and pulling, hidden to Frank's view by the fabric, before finally revealing the cherry with a flourish and putting it promptly into his mouth. This time he closed his eyes in pleasure. The cherry was warm, softer, and carried the mystifying scent of woman. He savoured its taste, greedily gulping the cherry down, and reached out for the bowl to get another.

"Slow down, slow down." Clara pushed him back. She didn't want this to be hurried. It was clearly going to be on her terms, and Frank, in tacit recognition, lay back on the bed. What would come next? Clara hopped up onto the bed, sat astride his chest. This time, she placed a handful of cherries in her front pouch, enjoying the texture and uneven sensation against her outer lips. It was Frank's turn to watch Clara's reaction, his cock stiffening unbearably as she massaged around the front of her own pants. This time, instead of reaching in, Clara leant forward on the bed, still astride his chest but edging up. She pushed into his face and laughed as Frank's tongue greedily licked and tried to pull aside the crotch, to get at the goodness within. She helped him with her finger, pulling aside the pants, exposing cherries and much more, before putting both hands on her breasts and arching her back in pleasure. Frank's hands latched onto her buttocks, pulling that sweet mixture of cherry and pussy into his mouth, and Clara did nothing to stop it, even adding her own thrust to bury him deeper.

"Hang on," she said. Reaching across to a drawer under the bed, Clara pulled out what looked like a necktie. On closer inspection, Frank noticed that it was far too long for that purpose, it was nearly two metres in length. With another naughty smile, Clara began to tie Frank's right hand. He panicked. Suddenly, the reality of the situation became very present in his mind. A woman he barely knew was tying him up, and he would be as vulnerable as it is possible to be, in a stranger's flat in Harlem. He would have to stop this madness. It made no sense. It was too much of a gamble. A mixture of thrill and a genuine feeling of fear ran through Frank, as he decided, by pure paralysis of inertia, to remain at her mercy. He was giving up control in the least secure of situations. A massive turn on, but one which could bring real danger.

As Clara slipped the long tie under the bed, and began tying his left hand up, she was clearly enjoying the moment too. Total, and utter, control. She breathed in a lungful of the incense-laden air, and felt intoxicated by the power of the moment.

When it was done, Frank lay back. His jeans were still on, cock pressing hard and awkwardly underneath them, and he still wore the shirt he had put on fresh from the shower. Clara straightened up, and bounced down from the bed. She walked slowly over to the dresser by the door. Again, the slinky movements suggested no urgency, just a playful lolling of the hips as she walked.

At the dresser, she picked up the can, which appeared to be a form of whipped cream. Frank took in the moment: the smoky incense in his nostrils, the gloomy, murky light of the bedroom, the silence of the flat whose decor insulated it from the noise of the street outside, and the huge, tense, expectation, of what Clara would do next.

She returned and sat astride him once more. This time, it was her nipples that received the attention, with small dollops of cream placed on each one. Clara bent down and meticulously placed them in his mouth, as he greedily licked and slurped, to her delight and frisson. She unbuttoned the shirt fully. It wouldn't come off, because of the tie, but she opened it out wide and examined his chest. With a dollop of cream on each nipple, she proceeded to repay the favour, slurping and licking greedily until the cream was gone.

Leaning forward again, she put her mouth next to Frank's ear, in a moment of intense, extreme intimacy.

"You know what I'm going to do now?" The voice was so close to his ear, so breathless and soft, that Frank felt his nether region quiver and engorge even more.

"What's that?" He managed.

"I'm going to make... you... come." Each breathy word was delivered with a pause, with a suspense, that set off a detonation of feeling inside Frank. He struggled against the tie, to get release and satisfaction, but it would have to wait. Clara had moved down, unbuttoning his jeans as she went, releasing with a start his cock from its moorings. He wished he could reach down, to fondle those breasts, to play an active role in this wonderful game, but his paralysis just heightened the pleasure. Slipping his jeans and briefs off, with an expert touch, Clara now saw what she had to work with. He was fully erect, spasming in anticipation and ready for work.

With a spray of the cream, she traced out a fine line down from his navel down to ground zero. She licked and dabbed at the cream, lapping it up while looking occasionally up to see the reaction from her prey. She lifted him up, to get into position, but was careful not to give him any sliding motion which might bring release. Sensing her pause, Frank tried to kickstart the action, by thrusting north with his hips. She reacted quickly, loosening her grip and making him thrust against air. "Now, now. Look who's in a hurry!"

Turning back to the job at hand, Clara leant over and licked the full length of his penis. It brought a shuddering spasm from Frank, but Clara also felt a pang deep in her womb. Despite the control, the power, of having this man powerless before her, she wanted to suck him and keep that dick her mouth. She set to work, holding the shaft in position while licking and sucking the tip, the part with most sensitive sensation, and then moved on to stroking and pulling the head when it was moist and lubricated. She started off slowly, extremely slowly, and feeling the thrust from Frank began to step up the pace ever-so-slightly, increasing the motion but always feeling her fingers around the head.

Before long, Frank's gasps and moans, together with shallower breathing, indicated that he was reaching his moment. Clara turned to him, looking him directly in the eye.

"Are you going to come?

"Yes!" Spluttered Frank.

They maintained eye contact, looking deep into each other's soul.

"Not yet." She dropped the object of her attention, straightened, and walked across the room.

What? What was happening? Frank couldn't believe it...she had brought him to the brink of ecstasy, then denied him release. He struggled against the ties, if he could only reach...but it was no good. They were too well tied. He gasped and struggled for air as the immediacy of the moment began, slowly, to subside.

Clara came back, this time completely naked. Jumping up onto the bed, she sat astride his hips, and with a quick rearrangement she slid down onto his still hard shaft.

Wow! A rush of feeling powered through Frank, as the warmth, the wetness and the fullness all hit him at once. Moving sternly up and down with his hips, Clara barely needed to move, to receive the full length of his cock deep inside of her. The feeling quickly bubbled up in Frank, and the shallower gasps and breathing were quickly upon him. Clara closed her own eyes in pleasure now, as she felt the pleasing pressure of being filled within. She was so horny now, that it took all of her willpower to stop and slide off his shaft.

"No...!" He exclaimed, as Clara once again denied him what he wanted, what he needed. She relished in the power, the control, as Frank writhed in ecstatic desire. It felt so, so good, and so desperately incomplete at the same time. Clara just laughed, wickedly, although this time had been tough for her too.

Enough playing. Enough of the games. Clara had done her job, done her bit, and the boys would be around to take him soon enough. She slipped back into her racy panties, stepped back into her dress and wriggled in, before walking curtly out of the door to protests and loud complaints from the bedroom.

In the kitchen, Clara made herself another drink. She'd been in New York for nearly a year now, and this was the third time she'd been asked to do a job like this. Hook them in, get them silly with lust, tie them up and wait for the boys. She didn't know what they did with their victims and didn't want to know. Kidnapping and ransom maybe. Maybe something more sinister.

But this one she had liked. She had to admit it, she'd got carried away in the moment, and went far beyond what she had to do. It was a shame for him, really. Had Clara not needed the money so badly, she might have considered letting him go. Perhaps, just perhaps. Perhaps she should at least have some fun with him. Finish him off as a parting present? The thought of sucking him and licking his body made Clara melt, and she felt moist again in the heart of her loins. He was silent now, perhaps thinking this was still part of the denial game. Clara crept back in, with a view to finishing what she had started. A mission of mercy.

She crept in quietly, closing the door behind her. In the time it took to realise Frank was no longer on the bed, she had been grabbed strongly from behind and her arms pulled tightly behind her. She let out a scream.

"Shhh," said Frank. "Go with it. It'll be fun."

He hadn't realised. He had thought it was still part of the power game. Clara didn't know how to play this. She couldn't overpower him. Her best bet was to go along with the game, and wait for her moment.

She let herself be led to the bed and tied down, as he had been before her. This time Frank had his chance to undress her, slowly, taking care to relish each moment and enjoy the shivering anticipation of his captive.

What time would the boys be here? Clara's panic rose. She was half-terrified by her bungled move, and half-aroused by the intensity of the situation. It was overpowering, terrifying, but immensely exciting in equal measure. Frank had begun licking and caressing her body. Not beginning in the obvious places, but kissing her arms, her stomach, the tops of her thighs and her neck. Clara felt herself melt within as the kisses came close to her neck, and then again in tantalising expectation as they neared her nipples and groin. Each time, though, Frank diverted at the last moment and allowed the tension to build up anew.

Finally, he raised himself level with her face, and again they stared into each other's eyes.

"You see this tongue?" He said, at last. She nodded. "It can do amazing things." As if to demonstrate, he licked her slowly under the ear, around her neck and dipped it greedily into her mouth. She responded, despite herself. She was powerless to stop it.

"The question is, where do you want it to work its magic?" She smiled, and paused as if giving it consideration. As Frank leant in again, she whispered breathily in his ear:

"In my pussy. Deep, deep in my pussy."

"Now, now. Naughty naughty." Frank smiled, wickedly. "I don't think you've really deserved that, have you?" He leant down, and began work on her nipples. Each one received attention, and with each lick stood up, erect, with an accompanying gasp from their owner. Clara rolled her eyes in anticipative pleasure, transported by sensation.

Frank worked, and examined, and licked and kissed, all the way around her body, but studiously avoiding her requested spot. He got close, teasing her outer lips and pulling them apart, blowing and breathing as close as he could get, but refraining from the real deed.

When he thought she could take no more, he finally began. He honed in, licking and flicking her clitoris to wild moans of released pleasure, built up tension heightening further, and only stopped when he became aware of her saying something.

"What's that Clara?"

"I said fuck me." She moaned as if in a trance.

"Fuck you?" Frank looked amused by the notion. "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean. Put it in me."

"Put what in you?"

"Your cock." She leaned in, with a desperation verging on anger, suddenly sounding clear and in the moment. "Put your cock in me and fuck me, fuck me as hard as you can. I want to come, you fucking bastard!"

By the time she was halfway through the sentence, which sent shivers of pleasure exploding down Frank's spine, he had slipped effortlessly into her dripping opening, and was thrusting, hard, harder, until they both came, noisily and messily in a collapsed heap.Clara reappeared in the doorway. In her hand, she had a bowl and a can. Frank couldn't see its contents, but the wicked smile on her face was encouraging. She was silhouetted in the doorway, the mild light from the living room projecting her shadow broadly into the bedroom.

Clara put the items she was carrying down on a dresser beside her. She was in no rush, the urgency of the previous moment having passed. Instead, she seemed to linger with each movement, building the sensation of expectation.

Frank remained static, lying back on the bed and contemplating her from a distance. She was sure of herself, smooth and elegant, with the sexiest of touches surrounding everything she did. She turned away, closing the bedroom door, and in one movement she unzipped her dress from the side, slid it over her shoulders and pushed it down to the floor. She bent over as she did so, exposing her tight buttocks and giving Frank another view, this time unencumbered, of that tantalising underwear. As she righted herself, Frank's pleasure gave way to a vague disappointment. He would have loved to undress her himself, and feel those curves under his fingers again.

As she turned round, his disappointment was brushed quickly aside. The view of her naked torso, her pendulous breasts and aureola were like a vision of renaissance art. She watched his reaction, and smiled. Pushing up her own breasts, massaging them together, and revelling in the powerful hold she had over him, she continued to stare deep into his eyes.

"Tell me," her voice broke the tense silence. "Do you like cherries?" She pronounced the word strangely, and Frank found himself again, wondering about her origins.

"Who doesn't?" He was enjoying the flirtation. Becoming more comfortable with this extraordinary situation, but still unable to take his eyes off her body. He both wanted her to come over, and wanted her to stay framed like a painting in a doorway, and felt the delicious pull between conflicting desires.

Clara picked up the bowl, and walked slowly to the bedside. Her every move was moderated, paced, careful not to break the spell with hurried gestures. She picked a cherry out of the bowl, rolled it around her fingers with a contemplative grin, and then placed it carefully in Frank's open mouth. It was cool, fresh from the fridge, but sweet and crisp. The juice trickled down his throat as they maintained intense, studied eye contact. Clara continued to stare at Frank, as she took another cherry from the bowl, and this time popped it into the front of her black satin pants. She smirked at the involuntary reaction from Frank - not what he'd been expecting at all - and dipped her hand back in to fish the cherry out. It didn't emerge immediately though. Clara rolled it around, probing and pulling, hidden to Frank's view by the fabric, before finally revealing the cherry with a flourish and putting it promptly into his mouth. This time he closed his eyes in pleasure. The cherry was warm, softer, and carried the mystifying scent of woman. He savoured its taste, greedily gulping the cherry down, and reached out for the bowl to get another.

"Slow down, slow down." Clara pushed him back. She didn't want this to be hurried. It was clearly going to be on her terms, and Frank, in tacit recognition, lay back on the bed. What would come next? Clara hopped up onto the bed, sat astride his chest. This time, she placed a handful of cherries in her front pouch, enjoying the texture and uneven sensation against her outer lips. It was Frank's turn to watch Clara's reaction, his cock stiffening unbearably as she massaged around the front of her own pants. This time, instead of reaching in, Clara leant forward on the bed, still astride his chest but edging up. She pushed into his face and laughed as Frank's tongue greedily licked and tried to pull aside the crotch, to get at the goodness within. She helped him with her finger, pulling aside the pants, exposing cherries and much more, before putting both hands on her breasts and arching her back in pleasure. Frank's hands latched onto her buttocks, pulling that sweet mixture of cherry and pussy into his mouth, and Clara did nothing to stop it, even adding her own thrust to bury him deeper.

"Hang on," she said. Reaching across to a drawer under the bed, Clara pulled out what looked like a necktie. On closer inspection, Frank noticed that it was far too long for that purpose, it was nearly two metres in length. With another naughty smile, Clara began to tie Frank's right hand. He panicked. Suddenly, the reality of the situation became very present in his mind. A woman he barely knew was tying him up, and he would be as vulnerable as it is possible to be, in a stranger's flat in Harlem. He would have to stop this madness. It made no sense. It was too much of a gamble. A mixture of thrill and a genuine feeling of fear ran through Frank, as he decided, by pure paralysis of inertia, to remain at her mercy. He was giving up control in the least secure of situations. A massive turn on, but one which could bring real danger.

As Clara slipped the long tie under the bed, and began tying his left hand up, she was clearly enjoying the moment too. Total, and utter, control. She breathed in a lungful of the incense-laden air, and felt intoxicated by the power of the moment.

When it was done, Frank lay back. His jeans were still on, cock pressing hard and awkwardly underneath them, and he still wore the shirt he had put on fresh from the shower. Clara straightened up, and bounced down from the bed. She walked slowly over to the dresser by the door. Again, the slinky movements suggested no urgency, just a playful lolling of the hips as she walked.

At the dresser, she picked up the can, which appeared to be a form of whipped cream. Frank took in the moment: the smoky incense in his nostrils, the gloomy, murky light of the bedroom, the silence of the flat whose decor insulated it from the noise of the street outside, and the huge, tense, expectation, of what Clara would do next.

She returned and sat astride him once more. This time, it was her nipples that received the attention, with small dollops of cream placed on each one. Clara bent down and meticulously placed them in his mouth, as he greedily licked and slurped, to her delight and frisson. She unbuttoned the shirt fully. It wouldn't come off, because of the tie, but she opened it out wide and examined his chest. With a dollop of cream on each nipple, she proceeded to repay the favour, slurping and licking greedily until the cream was gone.

Leaning forward again, she put her mouth next to Frank's ear, in a moment of intense, extreme intimacy.

"You know what I'm going to do now?" The voice was so close to his ear, so breathless and soft, that Frank felt his nether region quiver and engorge even more.

"What's that?" He managed.

"I'm going to make... you... come." Each breathy word was delivered with a pause, with a suspense, that set off a detonation of feeling inside Frank. He struggled against the tie, to get release and satisfaction, but it would have to wait. Clara had moved down, unbuttoning his jeans as she went, releasing with a start his cock from its moorings. He wished he could reach down, to fondle those breasts, to play an active role in this wonderful game, but his paralysis just heightened the pleasure. Slipping his jeans and briefs off, with an expert touch, Clara now saw what she had to work with. He was fully erect, spasming in anticipation and ready for work.

With a spray of the cream, she traced out a fine line down from his navel down to ground zero. She licked and dabbed at the cream, lapping it up while looking occasionally up to see the reaction from her prey. She lifted him up, to get into position, but was careful not to give him any sliding motion which might bring release. Sensing her pause, Frank tried to kickstart the action, by thrusting north with his hips. She reacted quickly, loosening her grip and making him thrust against air. "Now, now. Look who's in a hurry!"

Turning back to the job at hand, Clara leant over and licked the full length of his penis. It brought a shuddering spasm from Frank, but Clara also felt a pang deep in her womb. Despite the control, the power, of having this man powerless before her, she wanted to suck him and keep that dick her mouth. She set to work, holding the shaft in position while licking and sucking the tip, the part with most sensitive sensation, and then moved on to stroking and pulling the head when it was moist and lubricated. She started off slowly, extremely slowly, and feeling the thrust from Frank began to step up the pace ever-so-slightly, increasing the motion but always feeling her fingers around the head.

Before long, Frank's gasps and moans, together with shallower breathing, indicated that he was reaching his moment. Clara turned to him, looking him directly in the eye.

"Are you going to come?

"Yes!" Spluttered Frank.

They maintained eye contact, looking deep into each other's soul.

"Not yet." She dropped the object of her attention, straightened, and walked across the room.

What? What was happening? Frank couldn't believe it...she had brought him to the brink of ecstasy, then denied him release. He struggled against the ties, if he could only reach...but it was no good. They were too well tied. He gasped and struggled for air as the immediacy of the moment began, slowly, to subside.

Clara came back, this time completely naked. Jumping up onto the bed, she sat astride his hips, and with a quick rearrangement she slid down onto his still hard shaft.

Wow! A rush of feeling powered through Frank, as the warmth, the wetness and the fullness all hit him at once. Moving sternly up and down with his hips, Clara barely needed to move, to receive the full length of his cock deep inside of her. The feeling quickly bubbled up in Frank, and the shallower gasps and breathing were quickly upon him. Clara closed her own eyes in pleasure now, as she felt the pleasing pressure of being filled within. She was so horny now, that it took all of her willpower to stop and slide off his shaft.

"No...!" He exclaimed, as Clara once again denied him what he wanted, what he needed. She relished in the power, the control, as Frank writhed in ecstatic desire. It felt so, so good, and so desperately incomplete at the same time. Clara just laughed, wickedly, although this time had been tough for her too.

Enough playing. Enough of the games. Clara had done her job, done her bit, and the boys would be around to take him soon enough. She slipped back into her racy panties, stepped back into her dress and wriggled in, before walking curtly out of the door to protests and loud complaints from the bedroom.

In the kitchen, Clara made herself another drink. She'd been in New York for nearly a year now, and this was the third time she'd been asked to do a job like this. Hook them in, get them silly with lust, tie them up and wait for the boys. She didn't know what they did with their victims and didn't want to know. Kidnapping and ransom maybe. Maybe something more sinister.

But this one she had liked. She had to admit it, she'd got carried away in the moment, and went far beyond what she had to do. It was a shame for him, really. Had Clara not needed the money so badly, she might have considered letting him go. Perhaps, just perhaps. Perhaps she should at least have some fun with him. Finish him off as a parting present? The thought of sucking him and licking his body made Clara melt, and she felt moist again in the heart of her loins. He was silent now, perhaps thinking this was still part of the denial game. Clara crept back in, with a view to finishing what she had started. A mission of mercy.

She crept in quietly, closing the door behind her. In the time it took to realise Frank was no longer on the bed, she had been grabbed strongly from behind and her arms pulled tightly behind her. She let out a scream.

"Shhh," said Frank. "Go with it. It'll be fun."

He hadn't realised. He had thought it was still part of the power game. Clara didn't know how to play this. She couldn't overpower him. Her best bet was to go along with the game, and wait for her moment.

She let herself be led to the bed and tied down, as he had been before her. This time Frank had his chance to undress her, slowly, taking care to relish each moment and enjoy the shivering anticipation of his captive.

What time would the boys be here? Clara's panic rose. She was half-terrified by her bungled move, and half-aroused by the intensity of the situation. It was overpowering, terrifying, but immensely exciting in equal measure. Frank had begun licking and caressing her body. Not beginning in the obvious places, but kissing her arms, her stomach, the tops of her thighs and her neck. Clara felt herself melt within as the kisses came close to her neck, and then again in tantalising expectation as they neared her nipples and groin. Each time, though, Frank diverted at the last moment and allowed the tension to build up anew.

Finally, he raised himself level with her face, and again they stared into each other's eyes.

"You see this tongue?" He said, at last. She nodded. "It can do amazing things." As if to demonstrate, he licked her slowly under the ear, around her neck and dipped it greedily into her mouth. She responded, despite herself. She was powerless to stop it.

"The question is, where do you want it to work its magic?" She smiled, and paused as if giving it consideration. As Frank leant in again, she whispered breathily in his ear:

"In my pussy. Deep, deep in my pussy."

"Now, now. Naughty naughty." Frank smiled, wickedly. "I don't think you've really deserved that, have you?" He leant down, and began work on her nipples. Each one received attention, and with each lick stood up, erect, with an accompanying gasp from their owner. Clara rolled her eyes in anticipative pleasure, transported by sensation.

Frank worked, and examined, and licked and kissed, all the way around her body, but studiously avoiding her requested spot. He got close, teasing her outer lips and pulling them apart, blowing and breathing as close as he could get, but refraining from the real deed.

When he thought she could take no more, he finally began. He honed in, licking and flicking her clitoris to wild moans of released pleasure, built up tension heightening further, and only stopped when he became aware of her saying something.

"What's that Clara?"

"I said fuck me." She moaned as if in a trance.

"Fuck you?" Frank looked amused by the notion. "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean. Put it in me."

"Put what in you?"

"Your cock." She leaned in, with a desperation verging on anger, suddenly sounding clear and in the moment. "Put your cock in me and fuck me, fuck me as hard as you can. I want to come, you fucking bastard!"

By the time she was halfway through the sentence, which sent shivers of pleasure exploding down Frank's spine, he had slipped effortlessly into her dripping opening, and was thrusting, hard, harder, until they both came, noisily and messily in a collapsed heap.

fit  

May 7, 2018 in bdsm

Search

Tags