I stand perfectly still. She gazes at the tie, and after a few seconds, she accepts my offering. I wait for instruction.
She runs a fingernail across my chest along to my back as she walks in a circle around me as if admiring her prey. When at my back, she leans over my shoulders and whispers, “Kneel.”
I let go of control and do as she commands.
She remains at my back, placing her hands on my bare shoulders. “Do you remember the first time you asked me to kneel before you?”
How can I forget? The memory is singed onto my very soul.
“Yes, it’s a memory I revisit often,” I confess.
She gently draws my arms behind my back before binding my hands together with the tie. It takes all my willpower not to fight her, but when I think about what she endured, how even though her hands weren’t tied physically, but metaphorically, I surrender.
Her bare feet pad across the carpet as she comes to stand in front of me. I peer up at her, unbelieving how lucky I am to have my queen’s love.
“Me too,” she reveals, biting her lip as she commences running a hand down her neck and over the front of her tee. The thin cotton allows me to see her erect nipples, and my mouth waters at the sight.
“I didn’t know I liked being dominated that way, but when I’m with you, all I want to do is please you.”
Swallowing before I choke to death, I watch as Ella slips a hand into the front of her shorts and begins to play with herself. Her tiny moans alert me that she’s already wet, that her fingers are slipping into her sex with ease.
This is torture.
“I touched myself when I watched you shower,” she admits, moaning as she increases the speed of her fingers. “I love the way you look. The way you feel. You are so fucking…hot. I know that’s not the most eloquent of words, but your dominance, it turns me on.”
Tugging at the tie, I pray for it to come loose before I perish. But I’m tied up tight.
“When I first met you, all I could think about was taking your cock into my mouth and making you come,” she reveals, tossing her head back as she works herself feverishly. “It was so wicked. I’ve never had those thoughts before.”
Sweet Mother of Joseph, Ella speaking dirty will surely be the death of me.
“And then when I knew you wanted me as much as I wanted you…oh god,” she gasps. “I would fantasize about you at the orphanage. Late at night, when everyone was fast asleep, under the roof of God, I would think about how I wanted you to defile me in the most wicked of ways. And when you did, I wanted it never to stop.”
This sight is killing me in the best of ways. Ella pleasuring herself while talking dirty is something I could easily become addicted to. But when she stops touching herself and slides her shorts down her shapely legs, there is something else I know I’m addicted to.
She saunters over with her bare sex on display and ripe for the picking. She removes her tee and tosses it over her shoulder confidently. I need a minute because seeing her completely naked needs to be savored, not rushed.
Her curves make her all woman, my woman, and when she stands in front of me and clutches my hair in both her hands, it’s time I please my woman the way she deserves.
She spreads her legs and coaxes me to take her pretty pink пизда into my mouth. But I don’t need any encouragement. On my knees with hands tied behind my back, I begin to pleasure her with my tongue. She moans, spreading her legs wider, her hands still threaded through my hair.
She controls the speed, the depth, and I’m her willing subject, a tool that is there for her use. She rolls her hips as I follow her movements with my tongue. I suckle over her clitoris where it’s swollen and sensitive—I flick it with the underside of my tongue.
She cries out, trembling, but wants more.
I arch my head back to get a deeper angle, and when I sink my tongue into her, twirling it around and around and side to side, those trembles turn into tiny pleasured spasms. She’s close, and I can’t wait to taste the sweetness on my tongue.
Her pussy clenches, sucking me into a honeyed heaven. She