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Welcome to part 2 (the conclusion) of "Truth in Advertising." You'll find part 1 in our archives, but to get you started on part 2, here's where we left off:
"'Now let’s take off that dress, shall we?' he murmured. She turned around and stood up obediently as he pulled the dress over her head. She stood there shaking in her purple lace bra and black satin garter belt. Her eyes were huge.
'I have to see your breasts,' he said, aware that his voice sounded hoarse and more than a little breathless. She hesitated. 'Your breasts,' he repeated more firmly.
[And now for part 2...]
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The second time he said it, she removed the bra immediately. Her breasts tumbled free, the most astounding shade of white, pure and beckoning. They were full and round and much too tempting. He wanted to maul them, but he resisted briefly, and instead stared, to let her wonder if he approved, to let her realize her exposure, and feel the indifferent air rushing over their delicate surfaces. Then he swooped in, snapping a nipple into his mouth while he held and kneaded the other breast. She stroked his head and made the littlest sounds of happiness. Already the room was beginning to smell like her sex and his head reeled with the power he had over her arousal. He sucked and played until he was crazed with the idea of more of her.
She looked so lovely he hated to do it but he unsnapped her garter belt briskly and drew off her stockings, down her silken legs. He pushed her back down onto the sofa, positioning her onto her hands and knees lengthwise, her lovely, trembling ass pointed upwards. He pulled her wrists together and secured them with one leg of the hose: one firm, loose knot to tie them together, one knot looping around the armrest to make sure her bound wrists couldn’t stretch too far away.
She watched him out of the corner of her eye all the while, not speaking, just biting at her rosy lips with her white teeth. When he was satisfied with his knots, he crouched behind her. He gently pushed his body urgently up against her heart-shaped ass, every nerve in his cock telling him to get inside her now even as his mind told him to wait.
“You look so inviting on your knees,” he gasped, the words coming almost without his volition. “It’s not that I don’t want to hear you, my darling, but I’m afraid I’ll have to gag you.” And he pulled the second stocking around her head into a knot to hold her by, pulling it back against her teeth like a horse bit. She moaned and reared back against him, pushing her delicately naughty ass where he wanted it most. His bad girl.
He opened her legs with his hands, slapping at the insides of her thighs. He pulled back on the gag and she whimpered. Her pelvis made tiny circles in the air. He eased her panties off her ass, pulling them off one leg, then the other. His hands gripped her silken bottom, administering little pinches as he stroked. Then he allowed the pinches to turn into gentle slaps, slaps that made her ass shake and vibrate. The harder he spanked the louder she cried, until her noises were all he could hear above the roaring in his head. His hands grabbed her, held her, ground her ass against his throbbing cock. She huffed, struggled voluptuously, making pleading noises around her gag. Her wrists pulled at her bonds.
Go slow, take it easy, have finesse, he told himself but it was like he had a fever and couldn’t help himself. He let go of the gag and crawled underneath her spread legs. He licked gently at the little round pad of fat under her navel, pausing between her thighs with his eager face. Her legs gripped him and held him there. He lifted his head and began licking her with little cat strokes. She went rigid and then soft all over, moaning helplessly. The thought of how she must look up there with her mouth falling open in helpless pleasure, bound at the mouth and wrists, made his cock feel as if it would burst through his pants.
He pushed his fingers into her roughly with no stealth whatsoever, relishing the way her tight pussy held his fingers in a velvet grip. The volume of her sounds increased and she made a rapid, circling motion with her hips as he kept up the beat with his tongue and thrust with his fingers. He sucked at her jellybean clit and spread her lips wide with his hands, then watched the little bean stretch and pucker as she moved.
She panted, her arms straining against the bonds that held her. He reached around again to her ass and began spanking her, a spank for every thrust with his fingers. She pushed against him and rode him like a pony. Her hips jumped, then went rigid. She pushed against him and came with contractions that gripped his hand tightly and made her juices pump out of her with every pulse.
“Oh, oh my,” she sobbed, arms relaxing against the restraints.
But she wouldn’t be resting yet, oh no. He crawled out from beneath her quivering legs and briskly got out of his clothes. He positioned himself back behind her, feeling her skin on every inch of his body. She ground against him, hot and eager, her pussy steamy. His cock knocked on his stomach and he held it with one hand, right against her.
“Are you ready for me, baby?” he asked her, and she nodded frantically behind her gag. That was all he needed. He thrust into her, hard, roughly, pushing so deeply into her he thought he would come out the other side. The heat inside her!
Her velvet grip milked him as her gag muffled her moans. He made circles with his hips slowly, pushing in deeper at the end of every circle. As he reached down to stroke her hot, throbbing stone of a clit, he felt her hitch and stifle a scream. He pulled his cock all the way out, relishing the way her juices coated it before jamming it brutally back in. She moved her pussy like a belly dancer, like a snake charmer. He was sweating. She was so softly tight. Her ass shook with every thrust and he was starting to lose control. He pulled pack on her gag, pulled her pussy against him hard. All the muscles inside her undulated like an octopus as she shook, sweated, gripped him.
That was it. He couldn’t hold back anymore. He pushed against her. Her smell was everywhere as he gripped her hips and shot into her and shook and cried and moaned and spewed and emptied himself, joyously.
He collapsed on her back, shaking, his hand loosening the gag. He buried his head on her feather-soft back, reveling in her scent, wondering how he ever managed to get here with this woman. One thing was for sure ‒ he wasn’t done with her by a long shot.
Copyright © 1999 by Custom Erotica Source. All rights reserved. No part of this writing may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission. For information, address Custom Erotica Source, P.O. Box 31320, San Francisco, CA 94131 or www.customeroticasource.com.
