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“You are my Rex,” I said, and I meant it.
“Unwrap your legs and stand against the wall.”
I started to face the wall, but he told me to turn around and face him. I did what he asked. I wasn’t sure what he had planned, but I didn’t have to know, Nicky knew. He put my hands above my head, pinning my wrists against the wall. The moment I couldn’t move my hands it hit that switch that flipped me so that I wasn’t just wanting to bottom to Nicky, I was bottoming to him. It felt peaceful to know that I wasn’t strong enough to free my hands. I knew I could have yelled for help and had it, but I didn’t want to be saved.
Nicky raised the scrub top, baring my breasts to everyone, and there was no embarrassment about it now, instead it added to the thrill. He played with my breasts, running his hands back and forth over them, filling his hands with them, pressing and stroking until my nipples hardened. He rolled them between his thumb and forefinger, then pulled one nipple out until it hurt just a little, and then he pinched my nipple hard until I said, “Safeword.” Yes, that was my real safeword.
“You like breast bondage,” he said.
“I do.”
He slapped the top of my one breast; it sent shock waves through me, like my body didn’t know whether to sayowordo it again. Ididn’t safeword, so he slapped the top of the other breast. The impact thrilled through my body.
“Harder,” I said.
Nicky didn’t ask if I was sure; he trusted me to give him feedback, so he did what I asked. He slapped me harder, and my body jumped with the impact; if he hadn’t had my hands pinned to the wall I would have stumbled. He studied my face waiting for me to safeword, and when I didn’t he smiled. It was a smile that he only used when we were doing bondage. He enjoyed causing me pain because I enjoyed it, and I enjoyed that he enjoyed it.
“Harder,” I said.
He smiled and slapped me so hard my entire body jerked, pulling against his hands where I was still pinned. “Safeword,” I said.
He gave that low, masculine chuckle. “Look at those beautiful breasts all pink and red.” He caressed them gently, tracing where he’d marked them. He was being so gentle, but the reddened skin hurt even from that.
“Safeword,” I said.
“Oh, we will be doing more of this at home,” he said.
“When you can tie me up and use both hands,” I said.
“Yes,” he said, and then he leaned down and kissed me. I felt his hand at the top of my pants, pulling them down. He whispered against my lips, “Now I’m going to make you come, and then I’m going to put my dick inside you until I’m done.”
That sounded like a great plan to me, so I said, “Yes.”
He slid his hand between my legs to find me already wet and eager. The preliminaries were done, so he found that one spot and began to stroke it with two fingers. It didn’t take long for my breathing to get faster; the sweet weight between my legs grew and grew until one last stroke spilled me over the edge and brought me screaming.
He growled next to my face. “Quiet, or I’ll stop.”
I stopped screaming because I didn’t want him to stop moving his fingers between my legs. I couldn’t decide if it was one long orgasmor if I was falling from one to another to another. My knees went weak until his hand on my wrists was the only thing keeping me standing. My eyes had fluttered back into my head, so I was blind with pleasure. My body spasmed and jumped with it, so when he let go of my wrists I slid into his arms, helpless and liquid.
His voice was deep and still held that edge of growl when he said, “Now I’m going to shove my dick between your legs until I spill down your thighs. If once isn’t enough I’ll make you lick my dick clean, and I’ll go again. Or maybe I’ll invite someone else to fuck you bareback until we pour down your thighs.” He knew that one of my favorite things was multiple partners, but nobody else in the room was on the short list of people allowed to fuck me without a condom, so it threw me out of the fantasy for a moment. Then he was forcing me to face the wall, bent over. Having to fight the afterglow of the orgasm to stand upright and brace helped clear my head a little more, and then Nicky was behind me, his hands on either side of my waist as he pressed himself against my ass; he put an arm around my waist and used his other hand to help find the angle he needed to press the head of himself against my opening. He started to push himself inside and it felt incredible because my body was still spasming from the orgasm.
“God, you’re always so tight after you go, wet, but tight,” he said. He pushed himself one delicious inch at a time inside me until he was as deep inside me as he could go, every part of him sheathed inside me. He curved his body over mine and held me for a moment with our bodies married together like that, and then he raised his body up and began to pull himself out of me. He had to work his way in and out until he had enough room to find his rhythm. It was gentle but deep, searching for that other spot inside the opening, and the last one deep inside. It was like he wasn’t sure which one he wanted.
“I’m going to go soon,” I said, because my body was choosing the spot closer to the opening.
“Go,” he said, and as if it were permission the orgasm spilledthrough me and around him as he kept his rhythm. I started to scream his name, but he put his hand across my mouth to keep me from alerting the nurses, but I had this urge to bite his hand. He must have heard the thought because he said, “If you bite me I’ll cover your mouth and nose until I’m finished.”
I had one of those urges that you get in the moment. I said, “Do it.”
“I won’t be able to see your face from this angle, so I can’t judge the color of your skin.”
“Just for a few thrusts, please.”
“Tap out when you’re ready,” he said, and then his hand slid over my nose and mouth. We’d never tried this kind of breath play. It didn’t feel as immediate as other kinds, and then Nicky found the rhythm he liked at the end, which was hard and deep, slapping our bodies together. He tightened the arm around my waist, and his hand across my face, so that suddenly my body was aware it couldn’t breathe. There was that moment of panic, but I knew he’d stop when I tapped his hand. It was ultimate trust on both our parts. I trusted that he’d stop, and he trusted that I’d tap before I passed out.
He fucked me as hard and as fast as he could, and I held my hands on the wall to keep myself in place for him; his hand was so tight on my face that I loved it, but I needed air. I was about to tap out when another orgasm caught me, and I forgot while my body writhed and bucked against his. His hand squeezed down tighter, and I started to see gray and white spots, and raised my hand to tap out, when I felt his body thrust deep inside mine and felt him shudder inside me, felt him go in a wash of warmth and pleasure. I managed to tap his arm and he let go, so I could take a gasping breath while he shuddered inside me again, his hands on my hips holding me in place while he orgasmed a second time.
He held me around the waist while we both caught our breath. His voice was breathy and hoarse as he said, “We need a mirror to do that again, so I can see your face.”
