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“Ah, there it is. So you won’t go willingly? I didn’t think so,” he states, his thighs bracketing my hips, his fingers teasing the skin just above my boxers. I can feel his touch like a brand, it sears my skin, sending shockwaves straight to my balls.
What did I say…a magician.
“I’ll never go willingly.”
“Hm, didn’t think so.”
With a swift twist of his body, the rope materializes in his hand. He conjured it, like a rabbit out of a hat.
“What did you do? Train with Penn and Teller?”
“Don’t know who that is,” he says as he secures my wrists to the flimsy headboard. It’s a rusty metal one and looks like even I could snap it in two. But I don’t even try to resist. Just let him truss me up like a pig.
I’m a desperate whore for it. Oink, oink.
“Should I do your legs too, so you’re unable to fight?”
I kick out at him in response and he chuckles. Always fucking laughing at me. I’ve never heard someone do it so goddamn much.
“Shut up,” I mutter and he swats at my ass.
My still very-clothed ass. Not sure what his game is, but if he keeps ripping my boxers, I will run out of underwear. Then I’ll just have to walk around naked.
If I stay lubed up, he can slip into me anytime he wants…well, if I like him fucking me. It will probably be terrible. I will probably hate it. He looks like he’ll sweat a lot and grunt.
Maybe he’s more of a pig than I am.
Or maybe he will make me squeal.
“How about I tell you, in very filthy detail what it feels like tunneling up your tight little ass,” he replies as he tugs my boxers down. The waistband gets stuck on my dick, and I groan at the sensation, but he manages to maneuver them down until they’re tangled around my ankles. And then discards them completely.
“Hm, they’re on the cactus now. You’re running out of underwear.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“I’d hate it…seeing your bare ass all day.”
I wiggle in response and he clutches the globes of them, jiggling them slightly. “It’s just so…small.”
“It has a big personality. It will win an Emmy one day.”
“Or a Grammy with that fart you squeezed out earlier.”
A snort escapes me, and I choke on some spit, my eyes watering from trying to inhale.
“It was so good. Admit it. It was a nice F sharp.”
Skylar lets go of my ass and squeezes my neck. He leans down, his nose brushing against my cheek.
“More like a G, but yes. It kept the pitch the entire time quite nicely.”
Fuck, I am giggling now, like a little kid, but who knew Skylar could be funny. Shit, this makes me like him a little more. A lot more.
This cannot be happening. I don’t like anyone. No one.
I hate everyone.
People. Ew.
