AllFreeNovel
Share Us
My dick lengthened in my pants, and I unfurled my fingers from around the counter and undid them, shoving them and my briefs down enough for me to wrap my hand around it. It throbbed against my palm, heavy and hot, and I squeezed. Squeezed so tightly it hurt.
My head turned a dangerous shade of purple. But this was what I needed—punishment for thinking about that sweet girl like this. Thinking about the way her soft, full thighs would look tied to the edges of my bed. Would she like to be forced to expose herself? How shy would she look? Would her blush cover her entire body, or just her face?
My grip tightened as I stroked down my shaft, squeezing the base. I stared at myself in the mirror, my other hand still wrapped tightly around the bottle of liquor.
Would she let me bend her over this dirty sink and fuck her tight little ass? Would she scream and claw at the countertop, at the chipped and stained mirror, begging for mercy? Mercy I’d never give her.
My hips pulled back, then slammed forward as I fucked my hand the way I’d fuck her perfect cunt.
She would be drenched, sucking me inside her with such force it would feel like she was trying to consume me entirely. Her heavy breasts would swing, her pink-tipped nipples brushing against the counter. I’d grip her short, curly hair in my fist and shove her head into the filthy sink, forcing her to lick up the dried toothpaste and stray hairs from the past few days of shaving.
Tears would streak her cheeks, but I wouldn’t stop. No matter how much she cried or begged, I’d fuck her until I was satisfied. Even after my cock had softened, I’d find something to shove inside her cum-filled cunt and fuck her until she was an incoherent mess.
I fucked my fist faster, my spine tingling and balls tightening. A groan slipped from me, but I forced myself to stare into my eyes. I couldn’t hide from this, from these depraved thoughts.
I wanted to feel Winona come apart around my cock, around my fingers, around different objects I owned. I wanted to watch her eyes cross and drool spill from her mouth. I wanted to watch her make a mess of herself, coating herself in her own juices, then cry from embarrassment. I wanted to keep her tied to my bed for days, only feeding her my cum.
The image of her like that, helpless and covered in days’ worth of fluids, skin bright red from my belt, and hair matted from shaking her head as she begged and sobbed, made me come. A harsh snarl ripped from me as I watched it spurt out of my cock and into the sink, pooling near the drain. My chest heaved with each ragged breath, my knuckles aching as I unwrapped my fingers.
My gaze lifted again, and the realization of what I’d just done, who I’d fantasized about, hit me like a semi. Shame and regret filled me at once, mixing together like a deadly cocktail. I couldn’t do this—infatuation always started like this. It always masqueraded as just a fantasy, but I knew myself well enough to know it wouldn’t stop there. I knew I wasn’t strong enough to deny myself her. I wouldn’t even try to.
I had to stop this before it even started.
* * *
I woke with a throbbing so intense it hurt, my need for release unbearable. All I could think about was sliding my hand down my body and gripping myself, satisfying this primal need inside me. The rising sun slowly illuminated the room in golden light, but all I could think about was wrapping my hand around my aching cock. But I couldn't give in to this temptation, so I reached for the handcuffs safely housed next to my bed and secured them on my wrists. I raised my arms above my head and let them slide down the bedpost, holding me in place.
I watched my cock throb, begging for attention. Precum dripped from the tip, and I desperately wanted to rip the handcuffs apart and reach for it. My thighs trembled with the restrained effort, my jaw clenched so tightly it felt like my teeth were cracking.
I’m stronger than this.
The old wooden post groaned under the pressure of my self-imposed bindings as I fought against it. The feral need for relief welled inside me, overwhelming with its ferocity. A grunt escaped me as my cock swayed from one side to the other, each movement teasing me with temporary relief. I stared at it, tears filling my eyes from the desperation I felt with each passing second.
I can do this.
I can do this.
I can do this.
I rolled onto my stomach, my arms twisting above me. My wrists hurt, and my hands were beginning to feel numb, but I ignored it as I ground my hips into the bed, groaning at the feel of the rough sheets against my skin. I pressed harder, letting my cock slide against the bed. I chased my relief, my hips moving faster and faster, the friction burning my skin.
“Fuck,” I growled. I swore I could smell her sweet scent, and it made more cum leak from me, making a mess. But I didn’t care. All I wanted was to come all over this bed, all over her. Inside her. Mark her. Claim her.
I imagined her beneath me, tightly bound and at my mercy. I used my feet to push against the mattress for leverage, thrusting faster and harder, my cock thickening as I barreled closer to release.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I saw Winona’s face. I saw her breasts, her thighs, her calves. I saw her soft stomach and full arms, her round cheeks.
“Fuck!”
I flipped back onto my back, panting. My cock was red and throbbing, demanding a few more strokes until it could erupt. But I couldn’t do it. Not when she was the thing still filling my mind. I thought after a night’s sleep I’d forget about her, but it seemed my thoughts of her had only grown stronger.
I stared up at the ceiling, listening to my neighbors move around as they got ready for the day. My breathing was ragged as I watched the sun creep higher. I had to do something about this. About her. I couldn’t let her be the star of my fantasies.
She hadn’t said but a few words to me, and I was already fucked, so ensnared in her trap, I knew I’d never get free. What would happen if we had an actual conversation? If she came close enough for me to touch?
I let out a harsh breath as I shook myself, moving my arms off the post. The little lever on the handcuffs was easy to reach, and I undid them, letting the skin-warmed metal land on my stomach. I rubbed my aching wrists, already red from the strain I put on them.
As I lay there, staring up at the ceiling, one thing played on repeat in my mind: I could never get close to her.
