Bound for Trouble

by Alison Tyler

  Inside, he smiled at me, recounting our entire evening in a voice loud enough for the driver to overhear. “Maybe we should host our own kissing party,” he said as we neared our door.

  “Any time,” I told him, as I headed up the stairs, his hand on my ass, promising me our night wasn’t over yet.

  THAT’S NOT A SCRUNCHIE

  Giselle Renarde

  Did Pella realize the balls it took to ask her out?

  It wasn’t easy. Didn’t matter that they flirted at work every day. Eric felt like he was going to throw up when he invited Pella to dinner and a movie.

  Thank god she’d said yes. If she’d turned him down, he would have quit his job, or stabbed himself with a letter opener. It wouldn’t just have been humiliating. Eric would have felt…well, heartbroken. Guys weren’t supposed to care or whatever, but he wasn’t made of stone.

  Standing on the wrong side of Pella’s door, Eric cupped his hand over his nose and checked his breath. Minty fresh. Perfect. Still, his stomach flipped when he reached up to knock.

  Be strong.

  He made a fist and rapped at the door.

  You never get a second chance to make a first impression.

  Eric’s heart stopped as he waited for Pella to open the door. He could hear her on the other side, shuffling, jiggling the handle. When the door finally opened, she wasn’t there.

  “Pella? It’s Eric. Where are you?”

  “Behind the door,” she said without emerging. “Come in for a sec.”

  “Oh.” Eric stepped over the threshold, and the first thing he noticed was a warm scent, like cinnamon and pears. “Okay, thanks.”

  Pella’s apartment was really dark inside. Even when she’d closed the door behind him, Eric strained to find her shape in the shadows.

  “Take off your shoes?” she asked. “I just got new area rugs.”

  “Oh yeah, you were saying.” Eric scuttled out of his shoes without untying the laces. “From the Persian shop on Yorkville, right? Those places scare the crap out of me.”

  “Persian places?”

  “No, no, I meant boutiques.” His heart raced. Pella must know by now that he didn’t have anything against her culture or ethnicity, whatever you call it. “Fancy stores freak me out, you know? I always feel like they’re gonna give me the bum’s rush because they don’t like my pants.”

  “Your pants?”

  Pella took a step forward, and Eric took a step back. As she forced him into the candlelit living room, he got his first look at what she had on: black silk, with ribbons crisscrossing her front. Very short. Very short. It wasn’t a dress, was it? It wasn’t something you’d wear out of the house.

  “Oh, you’re not…ready?” Eric swallowed hard.

  “I’m ready,” she said, almost a growl.

  He knew he was staring at her cleavage, but he couldn’t help himself. Pella never dressed like this for work—low cut, silky, seductive. Her legs were completely bare, from her thighs down to…actually, she did have shoes on, with little heels and black straps. Her toenails were painted with dark polish. Purple, maybe? Hard to tell in the candlelight.

  “You’re ready…to…go out?”

  Pella threw her head back and laughed. Rather than answer, she pressed him across the room, unzipping his pants and letting them fall down his legs. What the hell was she doing? Taking off his underwear? Was this really happening, or had he hit his head on the way over?

  In the darkness, Eric had no idea where he was stepping. He wasn’t entirely surprised when he fell on a couch. Really, the fact that he was naked from the waist down was more of a shock.

  “We’re here!” Pella cooed. “Happy first date.”

  “I thought we were going out,” he said. “Dinner and a movie.”

  “Everybody does dinner and a movie.” Pella fell to her knees and grabbed hold of a silky black cord. “I thought we might start our evening off with a little light bondage.”

  Eric’s cock surged as he realized what was going on. She’d planned this, obviously. Pella always was the most organized person in the office, but Eric had never known anyone to be so prepared in the bedroom. Not that they were in her bedroom. No, Pella obviously wanted him on the couch—she’d tied ropes to the heavy wooden feet, and was now in the process of securing those ropes to his ankles. He let her, of course. He was really too shocked to move.

  “Put your arms out,” Pella instructed. She didn’t wait for him to move before grabbing his wrists and stretching them out across the back of the sofa. “Very good. You’ve done this before.”

  “I’m pretty sure I haven’t,” Eric said, chuckling with nerves.

  Pella had obviously tied two cords to the back legs of the couch, because now she was tying his wrists up, too.

  “You’ve never been bound like this?” She knotted the rope tightly.

  “Not to a couch. Not on a first date.” Not at all, but he didn’t want to seem like a bondage virgin when Pella was obviously so keen on it.

  “How does that feel?” she asked. “Too loose? Too tight?”

  “Definitely not too loose.” The ropes splayed him like a butterfly, so wide his inner thighs burned. He was open to her, open for her, and it hit him how vulnerable he was. “What were you planning, exactly?”

  Pella cocked her head and smiled. “Nervous?”

  His cock jumped, drawing her gaze. “Should I be?”

  Shuffling between his open thighs, she shrugged. “That depends, I suppose.”

  “Depends on what?”

  She leaned her naked knees against the front of the couch and unbuttoned Eric’s stiff shirt, slowly, top to bottom. The pace was torture. What was she planning? He had a few ideas of what might be in store, but Pella worked in mysterious ways.

  “Ahh, look at your chest!” She wove her fingers together beneath her chin, smiling rapturously. “My god, you’re fit. I thought you’d look good, but this… this is a nice surprise.”

  Eric’s cock waved with delight, and Pella chuckled sweetly. He wanted to return the compliment, but what could he say? You look good? You look great? Everything sounded stupid, in his mind. With all his blood flowing straight to his crotch, he couldn’t form a proper sentence.

  “You look…wow…”

  Well, it was better than nothing.

  “Wow, do I?” Pella fell between his legs, slowly stroking his thighs. “I look wow…”

  “Sorry,” he said. “My brain is not…working.”

  She grinned and angled her fingers, so the nails caught his skin. She traced them slowly down his thighs, digging just deep enough to make him writhe against his bindings.

  “No, I like it. Wow. I take that as a compliment.”

  “It was definitely intended that way,” he told her as she traced her nails up his thighs.

  His cock lurched at her hand, but she swept it out of the way, teasingly. It landed like felled lumber, splashing precum down his leg. He didn’t want to let her see how fucking good that felt, but how could he possibly hide it? She’d got him colossally aroused, tying him up spread-eagle across the couch, then tracing those vicious fingernails across his flesh.

  Now she was kneeling between his legs, waiting.

  He admired her control and precision. She had this all planned out in her mind, didn’t she? Pella knew just what she wanted.

  She traced the backs of her fingernails up his thighs, and beyond—up the ridges of his belly, up his chest. When she wrapped her fingers around his neck, the sparkle in her eyes tied Eric’s stomach in knots. What was she doing? She wouldn’t strangle him. No, she couldn’t. Even bound up, he could certainly escape. Couldn’t he?

  Pella giggled as she ran her hands down his chest. “You’re cute when you’re scared.”

  “Am I?” Eric didn’t want to feel shaken, but this was all new to him. “Thanks.”

  “What about me?” she asked, planting kisses down the tight, arching muscles of his belly. “Am I cute?”

  “Cute, yes.
Scared? Doesn’t look like it.”

  Her lip twitched before a smile took over. “Right…”

  Eric gazed down at the girl hovering over his hard cock. Pella, from the office. Pella, his work friend. His reason for getting up in the morning—not that he’d ever told her that. As his erection whacked her magnificent cleavage, it occurred to him that she was every bit as apprehensive as he was. She was just better at concealing her fear.

  Swallowing hard, Eric raised his hips off the couch, driving his cock into the tight valley between Pella’s breasts. He was just riding the surface, but even the slightest touch brought amazement through his body, from his dick, right up through to his heart. He’d never felt anything so intense.

  “Look at this cock,” Pella said in a whisper.

  She bowed her head and spit.

  As soon as that wet warmth met his red-hot tip, she pressed her thumb against it, rubbing her spit and his precum all over his cockhead. Her hands were everywhere! One clenched tight to the top of his shaft, moving only slightly while the other hand found his balls.

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Eric threw his head back, but it snapped up again. “What are you doing to me?”

  Bending forward, Pella brought her breasts out through the low V-neck of her black silk. Eric’s breath hitched as her exposed nipples met the cool evening air. They tightened into dark, pebbled buds. In the candlelight, her flesh glowed like bronze.

  Setting her big breasts on Eric’s thighs, Pella bowed her head and spit on his dick. Who’d have thought it could feel so good? But, then, who’d have thought a first date would turn into… this?

  As Pella bent forward, something slipped down her head, falling to the floor, and releasing a waterfall of hair over her perfect shoulders.

  “Your scrunchie,” Eric said, nodding to the floor. “It fell out. It’s right there.”

  “My scrunchie?” Pella appeared amused. She picked up the black elastic and asked, “This? It’s not a scrunchie.”

  “Oh.”

  “It’s a hair band.”

  “Oh.” Eric gazed from her luscious breasts to the elastic in her hand. “Well, what’s a scrunchie?”

  Who cares? Why was he asking stupid questions?

  Pella bit her bottom lip, like she was looking up the definition in her mind. “A scrunchie is one of those big hair ties they wore around ponytails in the eighties. The ones with fabric around them. This is not a scrunchie, it’s just an elastic you put around your head to keep hair out of your face.”

  “Oh.” This had to be the longest conversation Eric had ever had about hair products. “Okay.”

  “It’s good for other things, too,” Pella said, weaving the long elastic around her fingers. She suddenly seemed more interested in the elastic than she was in Eric. He wasn’t sure exactly what to do about that.

  But his cock wasn’t so subtle. It leapt forward to whack Pella’s tits, spilling precum across the expanse of her flesh.

  “Somebody’s eager,” she said with a laugh.

  “Looks like.”

  Pella’s expression darkened as she took his balls in hand. She gripped them tight, making them strain against his sac. Eric was so shocked he didn’t make a sound. He didn’t even struggle and she wound her hair elastic around his balls. At first, it didn’t really register what she was up to. She’d already tied up his wrists and his ankles. Now she was tying up his balls?

  The strain was like nothing he’d ever felt before. It was painful, but it didn’t hurt. He felt strung up and weak, but the harder his cock strained, the stronger he felt, too. Nothing made sense.

  “How’s that?” she asked, though she seemed to know already.

  “Good.” What else could he say? How was it supposed to feel?

  “Ready for more?”

  “I don’t know…”

  She smirked as she wrapped her full breasts around his dick. God, they were warm. Warm and wonderful. His balls strained against the underside of her boobs as she began moving them, just slowly, at first. Slowly gobbling up his entire dick with her full, fleshy breasts.

  “You like that?” She spit again, and it landed deep inside her cleavage. He could feel it against his throbbing shaft.

  “How could you tell?”

  As her cleavage consumed his cock, Eric tightened his asscheeks without really meaning to. It was the only way he could thrust. Every time he squeezed his butt, he felt it through his balls. That bound-up pair clenched tight, driving a strange pleasure through his shaft. He felt huge inside the cavern of Pella’s cleavage.

  “God, Pella.” Eric’s breath rattled in his lungs. “What are you doing to me?”

  She pinched her nipples, and he could have sworn he could feel it, too. When she bit her bottom lip, his balls quaked. They were trying to creep up close to his body, he realized, but the band kept them at bay. All he could do was sit there and watch as she fucked him with her tits, riding him hard and hot. How was she doing that? And was she enjoying it as much as she seemed to be?

  Eric bucked between Pella’s beautiful tits. Hard to believe this was the very first interaction he was having with them. Usually, the sequence went: look, touch, suck, nibble. Fucking might not happen at all, and certainly not on a first date.

  “You’re killing me,” Eric moaned as Pella curled her head down to lick his cockhead. “Oh, for fuck’s sake!”

  She giggled deep in her throat. Her hair tumbled forward, dancing down the sides of his bare thighs. Jiggling her tits on his erection, she sucked just the tip between her full, luscious lips.

  “Christ, I’m gonna come if you keep doing that.”

  She made a noise that sounded like “Good” without even opening her mouth. Eric’s body didn’t feel like his own. It moved of its own volition, bucking against his bindings, throbbing against that not-a-scrunchie.

  “Don’t you want…” How could he phrase this without sounding full of himself? “I mean, you don’t want to…?”

  To fuck me? You don’t want to pull up that little silk number and sit on my hot fucking dick?

  Pella moaned around his cockhead, sucking just that most sensitive bit while her tits wrapped around him like a tight pussy. Everything about her struck him as elegant—even the way she bounced on his hard-on. It was more like writhing, like an undulating mass of flesh. God, he loved her curves. What a body! What a great fuck!

  Every suck brought him to the brink, but nothing put him over. It must have been the elastic, compressing his balls, keeping his cum from coming out. Without it, he’d have exploded forty times over by now.

  “Can you take off the scrunchie?”

  Pella mumbled something around his cock, but he didn’t understand.

  “I want to come, please!” Eric clenched his ass and bucked off the couch, getting so close to orgasm he could almost taste it. “Fuck, you gotta take off the scrunchie!”

  Pella jerked up and his cockhead popped out of her mouth. “It’s not a scrunchie!”

  Her eyes blazed. Eric got the same feeling he’d had when he thought she was going to strangle him. Then a grin broke across her lips, and Eric rolled his eyes. “Fine, then can you take off the elastic?”

  With a full, toothy smile, Pella said, “Sure.”

  She didn’t even unwrap her breasts from around his cock before digging underneath to fondle his balls.

  “Oh, that’s good.” Eric bucked against her breasts, but they weren’t so tight now that her hands were otherwise engaged. “No, you know what? Leave it.”

  “Leave it?” Pella wrapped her hands around her huge breasts and hugged them around his begging cock.

  He wasn’t sure what she’d done, exactly, but the elastic around his balls felt a little looser. He tested the waters, fucking her tits slowly. Her lips parted gently, and stayed that way, like she was gasping silently. She seemed worlds away, transported by pleasure. Did this really feel as good for her as it did for him?

  Eric planted his feet firmly on the floor. Harnes
sing all the strength left in his legs, he drove his erection between Pella’s breasts, so hard his balls lodged themselves somewhere inside her cleavage.

  Pella growled like a bear in heat as she plunged her face against her boobs, swallowing as much of Eric’s cock as was sticking up between them. How could she bend that way? How could anyone be so flexible?

  She hugged her breasts, squeezing his balls and the root of his cock. Christ, how was she doing that? The pressure was immense. She squeezed him tight, like she was trying to squeeze the cum right out of him…

  And, fuck, it was working!

  Pella mewed and squealed as she sucked his cockhead. Eric’s balls pulled up tight to his body—as tight as they could get, considering they were bound up—and Pella pulled away just as he released his first gusher.

  “Yessss!” she hissed as white cream splattered across her tits. “Oh god, look at that hot jizz!”

  So dirty!

  Eric shot another load when those smutty words registered. Pella threw her head back and shuddered. Her breasts jiggled around his dick, drawing out more cum. She might as well have been sucking it through a straw!

  Letting go of her breasts, Pella dug her fingernails into Eric’s thighs and arched back. Yet more cum spilled across her chest, painting white over bronze like a Jackson Pollock canvas.

  Beautiful.

  Pella fell back on her heels, dragging her nails the length of his thighs. His cock strained for her, but he was spent. Totally spent. He ached to get hard again, so she could unleash him and wrap her wet pussy around his dick, but that wasn’t going to happen. He was gone, exhausted. He could have slept right there, tied to the couch. Easily.

  “That was…” Pella shook her head, completely out of breath. “Wow!”

  “See? I told you wow was a compliment.” Eric chuckled, shuffling against the couch. “Do you think you could take off this…scrunchie?”

  She smirked, then smacked his thigh. “It’s not a scrunchie.”

  “I know. Just teasing.”

  When she peeled off the elastic, her touch made him laugh. It tickled. She didn’t seem to realize how sensitive his flesh was.

  Or maybe she did. Hard to tell…