Shade of gray

Ricky had never been one for drama, but it felt dramatic when he dried her after the shower and bound her hands together. It felt dramatic when she was sent to the playroom to wait. She was shivering with excitement in the half hour it took for him to stride into the room, already unzipping his pants.

But even his demands of her were all sweetness and cajoling. Promise and tenderness. But he could have said anything, in any way, and it wouldn't have mattered. She was drooling for him. Wetness pooled inside her mouth. Between her legs. That's what half an hour had done. She was sopping, already so deep, she was thankful to him for it.

There was no hesitation as she opened her mouth and kept it open as Ricky trailed one of his hands down the side of her face. Then the other. She lifted her gaze to his, and he smiled before cupping her chin.

"Come here," he said, the Ricky version of I missed you.

Romi wasn't sure she would ever get used to the size of him. Maybe she didn't ever want to. The satisfying stretch as the fat head of his cock slid slick across her tongue. The taste of sweet skin and fresh salt. The smell of his soap, clean and bright and the slight, heady musk of him underneath. Stronger as he eased his way inside her throat until her nose was nestled against the soft little tuft of hair at the base of his big dick. She would never tire of this: being tied up, turned on, full.

She swallowed around him, and he groaned. The sort of groan that made her whimper in return and rub her thighs together, seeking friction she knew she wouldn't get.

"Romi—fuck, your mouth."

It was her turn to smile. As much as she could anyway, with him stretching her jaw open. This act, fucking him with her mouth or the other way around—it was the closest that she would ever get to satisfy her greed for him, her desire to have all of him, consume him, eat him whole.

Romi sucked harder and bobbed her head until he made more noises for her. The sound of his need had her hands shaking, fluttering against the cuffs. She ached to dig her fingers into his hairy thighs and knead the long hard muscles there. She ached to touch herself. It had just been so long.

As if he heard her, he gently patted her head. Redirected her attention. Here, the hand stroking over her brow said. Focus here. It was less a command and more like permission. To relax into her task. The service. To work harder, to make it better for him, for both of them. Making it wetter, sloppier, louder. Not so loud that she couldn't hear the steady stream of praise, he kept up as he gently stroked over the top of her head. Good girl and so perfect and prettiest little mouth. The sighs and moans only made her burn brighter with need.

He withdrew from her throat gently, leaving her warm and contented, throbbing between her legs.

"Let's get you up," Ricky said.

She leaned into the strength of his arms, hardly worried about being graceful in her cuffs, or how she looked to him once she was standing upright. Every thing about his touch and his face told her she'd done just right. The metal pole loomed large in the room, that was otherwise spare. She gave it a glance that must have betrayed her how she felt about her impending bondage.

Ricky smiled and brushed a tender thumb across her wet lower lip. "Let's get you all tied up so I can play with you."

Romi let out a shuddery breath, excitement making her heart race. "Yes, sir."

He inhaled sharply, his nostrils flared at her first use of the honorific since they'd begun. He let out a shaking breath of his own and kissed her. No finesse. Just heavy and hard, like he couldn't help himself.

Another amused, press of his lips to hers. Then he set to work on her bonds. They weren't fancy ties, and he was slow about it. Occasionally trailing the end of the rope across her shoulder blades. Her backside. Her nipples before he pressed her tight to the pole and began tying her to it.

His hands were even more through. A stroke here. A pinch there. A kiss dropped on the back of her neck. Whatever kept her body on high alert for his touch.

Ricky didn't stop touching her elsewhere, even as he slipped a finger inside her. She parted so easily for him he immediately added a second finger. Romi moaned, listening to them slide in and out of her.

"You're so wet." Awe in his voice. "How do you do it, hmm? How do you get this wet for me? Do you like sucking cock, sweet girl?

"Yours," she replied coquettishly, just to see him shake his head ruefully.

"What a coincidence. I really love playing with this little pussy." Romi clenched around his fingers. He tsked. "Not yet."

Not yet, he said, when she asked in her sugary-sweetest voice.

Not yet, he said on the fourth or fifth fruitless climb, when she wailed in frustration.

No, he kept her balanced on the knife's edge. His mastery of her body made it seem effortless. Made her feel like he could do this all night. Like he would do this to her all night, using her pleasure against her. It sent her to that place where her brain swam in syrup, warm and soupy and all his to lick up.

Shaking as though she would come out of her own skin, Romi finally, properly, begged.

Romi struggled uselessly against the ties. "Please, sir, can I ask—"

"You may ask me anything."

"Please, sir, can I come?"

The fingers that were so steadily working her drew slower and slower until they stopped. They both watched as he pulled his hand free of her body. A long sticky string of her arousal followed. Long enough that Ricky groaned, obviously impressed, as it stretched the length of her torso. It snapped, slapping against her breast. Those soaked fingers hovered in front of her lips. Slowly, Romi let her mouth fall open until he rested his fingers on her tongue. She sucked them clean and Ricky wiped his hand dry on her breast.

"Do you taste ready to come?"

Romi whined, throwing her head back. There was no right answer in the negative or affirmative. So she gave him the only one that would do.

"Only if you think I taste ready to come, sir."

He gave her another rough kiss. Against her lips, he murmured, "You do so well for me."

With lightning quickness, he dropped to his knees and licked a hot, wide stripe up her cunt. She shrieked—her entire body taut.

Ricky stood just as quickly as he dropped. He gave her a considering look. One too thorough to be real. "No, sweetheart, I'm not sure you do."

One deft tug on her ropes and she came free from the pole, but couldn't do anything else.

Merciless, he strummed a gentle fingertip over her clit, making her gasp. Use me hard, she'd said, while they were separated from one another. Craving this all those nights she spent alone. Clearly, she hadn't known what she was asking for, really. How delirious the entire thing would make her. It wasn't that he'd weaponised her pleasure. It was only that he made her simmer in it. Feel it so completely that it would make up for their separation.

Romi opened her mouth several times, though no sound came out. She was just a series of ohs until he ran a soft, slow hand up her flank and torso until he could squeeze her breast in one big, veiny hand.

She was so soaked through, so wrung out, but of course he knew that she needed permission for that too.

"Please," she whispered. "Can I please come?"

He didn't seem to mind her sweaty forehead when he kissed her brow.

"No, my love," he murmured.

He was gentle when he tightened her rope. Less so when he brought his hand down across her backside a few times. A little bit of playful sting to heighten the sweetness. Just enough for her to make some feeble protests, and offer a little struggle. But they were beyond protests, beyond struggle. He'd given her the gift of bliss by demanding her surrender.

"You always get so wet for me," he murmured. The two fingers inside her made so much noise. "You're so ready, pretty girl."

She whimpered and nodded, even though it wasn't a question.

He took his hand away, leaving her empty. There was a short pause, then the unmistakable sound of—

She looked over her shoulder to watch him stroke himself with her wetness. Disgusting. Obscene. Her pussy clenched around nothing. She rubbed her thighs together again, so desperately slick and turned on; there no point in pretending to be anything but.

If a smirk could be called loving, it was the one on his face. Knowing, amused. He jerked his cock in long, slow, filthy pulls. For show. To make sure she saw all the throbbing length of it.

"This is how I'm going to use you. I'm going to use your pretty cunt to get us both off."

There must have been a look on her face because he laughed, big and bright. His smile reminded her that her fiancé was underneath all the big bad dominance.

Then he sighed, stepped closer, put her face to the pole with his palm and sunk deep inside her. She gasped and gurgled as he made space for himself inside her, carving it out bit by bit. He pushed in one smooth motion and didn't stop until she was up on tiptoe and his hips were flush against her ass.

"Oh god, Romi, you're so tight, you're so fucking—"

He broke off and followed with another string of swears. Somehow, that made it worse. The confirmation that he wanted this—needed this— just as much as she did.

His hands closed around her hips as he gave one thrust. He didn't even leave her body, just forced her to feel him, all of him, the power he could exert over her.

The single thrust made her groan. Then pant, as she got reacquainted with his size. Not just that he stretched her so much and filled her so good. The weight of it was disorientating enough on its own. She'd missed it so much she understood what they meant when they said a body could feel like home. She felt so at peace, so comforted the second she was full of him.

Then he started to move.

He lied to her. He did not fuck her with lengthy strokes like he was performing for an audience. He fucked her like he needed to keep her full. Like leaving her body would be a fate worse than death. All pressure, the entire time. Inescapable. Forced on her. She was pushed through it, flushed into pleasure with a quickness and thoroughness that was almost frightening.

She hissed his name over and over, panic colouring the words. It was happening so fast and she was getting nowhere, no closer. He kept it just out of reach.

He stopped moving and closed one hand around her jaw. He held her still as he kissed her. Open-mouthed, wet. Consuming. She shuddered against him, murmuring her pleas into his mouth. Letting him lick them out of her.

Ricky dragged his lips across her face, streaking heat across her cheek on his way to whisper in her ear. "I know, sweetheart. But it's going to be so good when I give it to you."

Romi gasped, clenching down on him, so close to coming that it took snatching her face away from his, and focusing all of her energy on not coming. On him. Sir hadn't said she could come, so she wouldn't come. Good girl, he said, he always said. She could be good, she could be good, she could—

"Love," he whispered, as if it was her name. Romi moaned and wriggled.

"Yessir?" she asked, words slurred.

His voice was sugary sweet. "You're so close, aren't you?"

She nodded furiously. "Yes, sir."

For ages. Forever. Somewhere along the way time had melted and she was anchored only by his body inside her, around her. The way he held sway over every inch of her. Close because he wanted her close. Unsatisfied because he wanted her so.

She nodded again, face wet with tears and sweat. "Please," she said again.

"So polite, love." Ricky's teeth scraped her as he spoke. "You've done very well. Why don't you go ahead and come for me now?"

He wasn't rough. A few lazy pumps inside her clenching body. A single fingertip gliding over the bud of her clit. The rough, rich bass of his voice saying, "go on, sweetheart, make a mess."

Ricky had long ago rewritten everything she'd ever known about orgasms. She hadn't known they could be so powerful. Could render her unable to think. This time she learned that it could make her body like liquid. A girl all cracked open, dripping bright, a glow stick sluicing out of its confines. She would, in fact, make a mess of both of them, so wet she felt drippy, coming so hard it felt like it ran down her thighs.

She sobbed, voice shaky as she spluttered her thanks. Her body twitched and her hips bucked as she rode it out between his cock and the pole.

"Oh, good job, Romi, love, good job." His voice had the pleased, soothing patter it always took on when he was particularly happy with her.

He wrapped a hand around her throat and tilted her head back so she'd be forced to stare into his eyes.

Romi nodded as best she could and he mimicked the motion before dropping one hand to her waist and the other back to her cunt.

"You're so tight, it's like you don't want me to come out," he said.

She didn't, especially not when he pulled out and sank back inside her with an expert stroke. The climb was slower the second time. So strong, so insistent, she could only put her forehead to the pole and take it. A fire built to last instead of a flashbang. When she caught it, it blazed on and on and on, sweat pouring off of her, turning their bodies sticky-slick. All she could do was moan and whine her way through it, before collapsing at the end, half-dizzy. She'd never been so grateful for restraints. They could hold her while she floated away

His breath ghosted over her ear and she knew instantly what he would say before the words left his lips. "One more, love."

The pleasure was more brutal because it had to be. She needed more to chase that third one and he gave it to her, fucking into her at a pace that also meant he was going to come himself. A pace that was like a straightway of pleasure. No deviations, no more teasing. Just steady toward the pinnacle, like a race with no losers.

"Come on, Romi," he said through gritted teeth. "I want you to come for me. Come, Romi."

Panting, she said, "I want you—please, please, you come, I want to feel it."

He swore, hands dug into her body. "Yes, yes, for you, I'll give it to you, I—"

Nonsense between the two of them, but it didn't matter. It was happening. Ricky came deep inside her with one good thrust. Heat within and the heat of him without. His rough breaths and grunts in her ears, his grip on her. The way he said, "go on, lovey". The third orgasm sent her up into the galaxy. Where everything was dark and dazzling and deep. Where she could simply be adrift and wait on him to tow her back.

It happened as he freed her from her ties. Romi was finally aware of something other than starlight as the ropes fell away. The only bonds that mattered were Ricky's arms as he pulled her into a tight embrace and kissed each cheek, her forehead, her nose and, finally, her mouth.

"You did such a good job," he murmured, rocking her gently in his hold.

"Thank you, sir," she said and lifted her face for another kiss.

The End