Pleasure Parlour - Episode 7

The silk ties cut deep into her wrists. Not enough to mark, just enough to remind her who held the reins tonight. She lay spread across the velvet bench, thighs parted, nipples already tight from the cool air and the promise of what came next. He stood over her in black slacks and nothing else, the top button of his trousers undone like an afterthought. His hand moved between her legs, slow and deliberate, two fingers sliding through her wetness before he pushed inside. She clenched around him, hips lifting, greedy for more. He curled his fingers just so, rubbing that swollen spot until her breath stuttered. The sound of it filled the quiet room. He watched her face the whole time, eyes dark, jaw tight. When she started to shake he pulled back, thumb circling her clit instead, slow enough to keep her on the edge. She bit her lip and tried not to beg. He smiled, small and knowing, then sank to his knees between her thighs. His tongue replaced his thumb, hot and wet, licking broad stripes before he sucked her clit into his mouth. She arched hard enough to rattle the bench. He held her open with both hands and kept working her, relentless, until the orgasm hit sudden and sharp. She came with a broken sound, thighs trembling around his head. He didn’t stop. Just eased the pressure, let her ride it out, then started again. Slower this time. Meaner. His fingers slid back inside her while his tongue flicked steady and sure. She was already oversensitive, every touch too much and not enough. The second orgasm built slower, deeper, pulling from somewhere low in her belly. When it broke she sobbed his name, voice cracking. He finally pulled away, lips wet, chin shining. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and stood, cock hard against his fly. She watched him unbutton his trousers with one hand, the other still resting on her thigh like he owned the right. He freed himself, gave one slow stroke, then climbed over her. The head of his cock dragged through her slick folds, teasing, not pushing in yet. She lifted her hips in silent demand. He sank into her in one smooth thrust, stretching her wide, bottoming out with a low groan. She clenched around him, greedy, and he started to move. Hard, deep strokes that jolted the bench beneath them. The wet sound of it filled the room. He fucked her like he had all night and nowhere else to be, pace steady, controlled, until she came again around his cock. He followed soon after, spilling deep with a rough sound against her throat. When he finally pulled out, come leaked from her in a warm rush. He watched it with heavy eyes, then dragged two fingers through the mess and pushed it back inside her. She shivered at the filth of it. He leaned down, kissed her slow and deep, letting her taste herself on his tongue. Outside, rain started against the windows. Inside, the only sound was their breathing slowly returning to normal.