I Can't Hear You

“I could hear you in there,” he announced as I stepped out of the bathroom in the spacious hotel room. It wasn’t often that we found a hotel with a bathroom like this one, as big as some of the rooms we had stayed in. We had a day off and had gone off on our own to get a nice room – with a nice bathroom – and some time to ourselves.

The bathtub was big enough for two but I had taken it all to myself. And the handheld shower head had the perfect amount of pressure.

I might have shared my excitement with our neighbors in the next room.

I shrugged in response to his announcement and let my towel fall to the floor, exposing my naked body to him. I was pretty sure, if he had been listening to me through the door, to my moans and one near-scream as I came, he would already be pressing hard against the inside of his jeans. The introduction of my flesh to the equation would push him to the next level, undoubtedly.

I reached into my suitcase and pulled out a scarf, a lightweight thing I had never intended to wear. I only brought it in case a moment like this one presented itself. I looked around the room, disappointed in the solid headboard behind the king sized bed.

He watched me intently. I was sure that he knew what I was looking for but for now I guess he was content in watching me standing nude in the bright light of the room. Did he have every light in the room on? Whatever. It was fine. I had spotted what I wanted. There was a space in the base of the headboard, designed to specifically to lace things through.

Likely, the designers had meant for it to be used for phone cords. But the designers weren’t here to argue with me.

I crossed to the bed, lacing the scarf through the space, around the supporting section in the center, and laid both ends on the pillows. I turned to face him, coaxing him toward me with a come hither crook of my fingers. He obliged, of course.

When he reached the bed, he picked up one end of the scarf and I took it from him. I pushed him to sit on the bed, crawling up after him, straddling his hips, and tying the fabric around his wrist. I did the same with the other side, pulling it tight enough he couldn’t bring his hands back to the center.

“Oh, this is unexpected,” he said with a curious smile.

I pressed my mouth against his and whispered, “Shhh.” I reached between my own legs, finding my cunt still wet from my bath. Or wet again. Or a combination of the two. But I was headed for his jeans, unfastening the button and sliding the zipper down, revealing a throbbing bulge inside his soft, black shorts. I pulled his jeans off his hips, baring his thighs, slowly, taking several seconds to remove them completely, threading them under my own thighs, one at a time. I pressed the front of them against my face, inhaling the aroma of his arousal, before tossing the denim, unceremoniously to the floor behind me.

I repeated the same motions with his boxer shorts, sliding them slowly from his hips, savoring the reveal of his erection. I deposited the shorts near his jeans, and pulled back several inches away from him, raising to my knees in front of him. As he watched me, his hard cock twitched away from his body, eager for what was coming next.

I spread my knees apart and rested my two middle fingers against the fold of flesh protecting my clit, pulling it up and back, exposing the powerfully small organ to him.

He licked his lips. His cock jerked. I could see the muscles in his arms straining beneath his t-shirt as he pulled at his restraints. He wanted to touch himself. I wanted him to want to touch himself. I pressed my fingers against my clit, rubbing it for him, moaning as I did. He responded with a sound of his own, something that came from deep in his chest, an animal sound I wasn’t familiar with.

I smiled and reached deeper, penetrating my pussy, wetting my fingers, and drawing them back across my clit. I reached out with two wet fingers and touched them to the head of his cock, pressing my juices into him. “Do you want to taste?” I asked, offering the fingers to him. He leaned forward to the end of his restraints, mouth open, eyes closed. I stood and took a step closer, once again with his legs between my own, and wrapped my hand in his long hair, pulling his head back. I straddled his face, lowering myself until he could press his tongue into my pussy, letting go of his hair as I did, reaching for the headboard for balance.

I let him suck my cunt until I was sure he had cleaned up from my previous orgasm and stepped back, teetering on the soft mattress beneath my feet. “Do you like how I taste?” I asked him, holding his eyes with my own, challenging him to say anything other than yes.

“I love the way you taste. I want to eat your pussy for hours.”

I shook my head and spread myself over him. I touched the opening of my pussy to the head of his cock and continued until I sat on the bed between his thighs, wrapping my own legs over his hips. I took his cock in my hand and pressed the head of it into my clit. I rubbed it over my cunt, wetting it on the edge of my pussy, pressing the tip, just the tip, inside, before pulling it back to the throbbing organ in front.

I masturbated with his cock, never averting my eyes, though he did. He turned his eyes down to what was happening between us, straining, again, against his restraints.

“Do you want to fuck me?” I asked, softly, pressing his cock back to my opening.

“I want to make you scream.”

“That’s not what I asked you. Do you want to fuck me?”

“I want to fuck you.”

“How?” I let the head of his cock penetrate the opening of my pussy, holding it in place as I contracted against it.

He moaned, letting his head loll back on his shoulders. I released my grip on his cock and he recovered, pressing his hips forward, trying to enter me. Without permission. I backed away. “No,” I said, firmly. “How do you want to fuck me?”

“On your back, legs over my shoulders, hard, fast, and so deep you can taste it,” he growled.

I smiled, baring my teeth, and shifted onto my knees.

I lowered myself to meet him, pressing his cock into my lips, spreading them only enough to pinch the soft pink head between them. I flicked my tongue over the small bit of him I had allowed into my mouth.

He moaned, softly. I felt his body tense as he tried to reach for my head. I allowed another inch of his member into my mouth, caressing it with my tongue, pressing my own muscle into the head of his. I chewed softly at the tip of his cock, my lips between my teeth and his flesh, and allowed another inch in.

“Fuck,” he moaned and I felt his body shift beneath me as he fell into the headboard.

I let go of his cock and left the bed, feeling cool air against my wet cunt as I walked to the bathroom. I picked up my phone from where I had left it on the edge of the sink and came back to find him spread eagle, his cock throbbing against his stomach, his back once again erect from sitting up at my sudden departure.

I set up the camera on the phone, holding it in my left hand, and worked my way between his thighs once again. With one eye on the phone screen, my own face looking back at me, I pressed the red circle on the screen and watched his cock disappear slowly into my own mouth. I let him roll his hips up away from the bed, pressing his thick, hot cock into the back of my throat. I let him fuck my mouth, watching on the phone screen that I held precariously to the side, to get the best angle.

It didn’t take long before the whole thing became more work than pleasure and I stopped recording, freeing his cock from my mouth. “If I untie that arm,” I jerked my chin to his right arm, “can you be trusted not to touch me?”

He nodded, emphatically.

“I can’t hear you.” He twitched his eyes toward the phone, a questioning expression crossing his face. “It’s off.”

“Turn it back on and ask me again.”

I puffed a small laugh from my nose and pressed record on the camera. “If I untie one arm so you can take the camera, can you be trusted not to touch me?”

He nodded.

“I can’t hear you,” I growled.

“Yes. I can be trusted not to touch you.”

I reached out with my free hand, thankful I hadn’t tied it in a real knot, and released his hand from the restraints. I handed him the camera, switching modes, and shifted again so I could spread my pussy over him. I wet the head of his cock once more with the juices of my sex, and lowered my body to press him into my mouth.

“I am not ready for you to come,” I instructed.

“I am ready,” he replied.

“You are not to come until I am ready, is that understood?”

“That is understood.”

“Good.” I pressed his cock, hard, into the back of my throat, closing my lips around it, tightly. He was long, thick, and even as deep as I could press him, his shaft was still exposed. I wrapped my fingers around the last visible inch of his member, squeezing it firmly. With the other hand, I squeezed and kneaded his balls, pulling them down toward his taint, pressing them against the soft flesh between his legs with the palm of my hand.

He rolled his hips, forcing more of his cock into my throat. I shifted to allow it, opening myself to him. “Your mouth feels amazing,” he moaned, thrusting into me. I returned his thrusts, burying him deeper until I could release my grip on his shaft. I shifted again, pressing my now free hand into my cunt, massaging my clit, my folds, my pussy, reaching deep into my pussy to find the soft nerves inside.

“Are you fingering yourself?” he asked, lifting his leg between my own to press it against my hand. I rested my weight against it, crooking my fingers inside my pussy until hot cum poured out over both of us. I moaned into his cock, making it jerk against my mouth.

I lifted myself until only the head of his cock rested between my lips, and wrapped my cum-wet hand around him. “I want to come inside you,” he moaned.

“No,” I replied and sealed my lips over his head. I sucked at him, stroking him into my mouth.

“Can I come?” His voice was soft, pleading, almost pained.

“I can’t hear you,” I replied.

“Can I come?” he asked with force.

“No.” I returned his cock to my mouth, rubbing my hand over his shaft. I pressed it hard into his body at the base, squeezing, kneading with my fingers, and drew the hand back toward my mouth. Back down, pressing into his body, back up, pinching two fingers over the tight tendon under his head. He replied by thrusting his cock into my mouth but my lips on his head kept him outside.

“I am ready to fucking come,” he growled. “I want to come.”

“How? Tell me how you want to come.”

“I want to fill your throat with my hot, salty cum. I want to feel the muscles of your throat and mouth massage my cock as you drink in every drop. I want to fucking explode inside you. Suck. Me. Dry.”

“Hold your breath and mind the camera. I want to watch you come,” I commanded, before pressing his cock deep into my throat, deeper than it had been all night, maybe ever. I pressed my two fingers, now sticky with dried cum, into the tender flesh of his taint as I sucked his fevered, throbbing cock. I could feel veins throbbing against my tongue and pressed it in harder to feel them better. I pressed the same two fingers against the soft area beneath his asshole, palpating them firmly into the area. He lifted his hips from the bed as I did, spreading his legs wider. I pressed the tips of my fingers against his asshole, just the tips, not enough to penetrate. He writhed beneath me and I could feel the first stages of his orgasm as his cock jerked frantically inside my mouth. I sucked harder, pressing one finger inside his ass, only an inch.

Only an inch was all he needed. As I hooked my finger forward, he filled my mouth. Hot, salty cum ran into my throat and I swallowed hard. I pulled back and he pushed forward, refusing to give me room. Acquiescing, I let him fuck my mouth, thrusting as he unloaded, sticky fluids coating my tongue and cheeks.

I drank. Hungrily. I devoured every last drop. When he stopped thrusting, I sucked. I sucked hard, wanting everything he had in him. I sucked until he reached out with the hand that was still bound in a thin, organza scarf, and pushed me away.

“You touched me,” I growled.

“Punish me,” he answered with a grin, dangling the scarf before my face.