Cleaned
Chapter 2: The bait is well taken

Copyright© 2002 by Pat Fairfield

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 2: The bait is well taken - A fem-domme romance. This is not the usual "you miserable worm!" treatment of this kind of topic. It has tender moments. Oh, and a lot of hot sex. Try it. You'll like it! Our hero did.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Lesbian   Heterosexual   Cheating   Wimp Husband   Cuckold   BDSM   DomSub   FemaleDom   Rough   Light Bond   Humiliation   Interracial   Black Female   Black Male   White Male   White Female   Oral Sex   Masturbation   Fisting   Sex Toys   Cream Pie   Exhibitionism   Voyeurism   Size   BBW  

He thought about her a lot over the next couple of days. Wondered if she'd really make good on her promise to do him over a second time.

Promise? Make that a threat. He'd found the whole thing quite disturbing.

Disturbing that she'd treat him like that. Squeeze his balls, then jerk him off while holding a knife to his ear.

Disturbing that, despite such treatment, he'd cum as easily and as excitedly as a virginal teenager.

And therein lay the promise.

Was it the situation? Or was it her fabulous boobs?

He thought it was mainly the latter, that'd enticed him to merely tolerate the former.

Well, that's what he thought. How right would he turn out to be?

He was immersed in spreadsheets of financial projections when the familiar light tapping came at his office door. He released the latch and the door swung open.

It was her.

And she was alone.

Pushing the door closed, she walked around and sat in the chair opposite his desk, placing a leather carrybag on the carpet in front of her. She had a loose white blouse on, and a tailored black skirt. Looked quite smart today. Her sizeable boobs were very obvious, despite the loose top.

"Not working today?"

"No, I took the day off."

Silence.

She regarded him dispassionately. Coolly looked him up and down past long eyelashes as she leaned back in the chair. Checking to see if he still passed muster or not.

"Did you enjoy yourself the other day?"

He allowed that he did.

"So did I" she replied. "When I left you, I hadda go straight to the Ladies bathroom and finger myself."

He found this kind of frankness disconcerting. He himself would never admit to a soul that he ever masturbated. Not that he ever did, much.

"What was that about a test?" he wanted to know. "You know, the money... ?"

"I figured you to be a guy who normally'd be turned off by the idea of paying for sex. I wanted to know what my tits were worth to you. Whether you'd still be hard for me after paying me. And you were. It was a nice compliment."

Another long silence as that sank in.

"But enough of chit-chat!"

She cupped her boobs with both hands, uplifting them in her blouse.

"Want to play with them again?"

He hesitated. Embarrassment returned. But not so much as before. This time, he found her directness almost refreshing. He found himself able to admit his need to her.

So he nodded.

She seemed satisfied by this response, but still didn't move out of her seat. Another silence.

Damn, she looked good! Truly a Nubian princess. Pouting full lips, sexy eyes, fine black features.

But what did she want him to do? Did she expect him to get up and go to her? His tension was building. And his confusion.

"Last time, you tried to fuck me. I had to protect myself."

She paused for effect. He felt suitable chastened.

"I'm not ready to grant you that kind of enjoyment of me. I may never. It'll depend how things work out."

She bent forward and opened her handbag. He got treated to a glimpse of milk-chocolate cleavage as her blouse gaped down.

She straightened back up, and he could see her holding a tangle of straps. Two broad bands of velcro-backed nylon fabric about two-foot long by six-inch wide, with inch-wide nylon webbing straps hanging from each of them. They looked for all the world like those things doctors wrap around your arm to take your blood pressure with. He was already familiar with those — he needed his blood pressure taken fairly regularly these days.

"I don't want to be holding any knife this time. I want both hands free."

He still didn't understand. She could tell by his blank expression.

"I want to bind your arms to the chair, so you can't move them."

His jaw dropped.

"No way!"

She slipped a button of her blouse undone, then another, and leaned forward a little. The glimpse he'd had of deep cleavage now expanded to the twin swell of big breasts, amply filling and over-topping a black lacy bra.

"It's necessary, for my protection. I'll give you what you want, but only if your arms are pinned."

She looked at him demurely, cleavage on display but little else. Just enough to fire his imagination.

"No. You could pull any kind of stunt with me. Rob me, beat me, whatever!"

"You'll have to trust me. I'll rub my tits in your face, and jerk you off. That's all, I promise. You'll love it!"

He knew he would. That was the problem.

She stood up and unbuttoned her blouse all the way. Lace-clad brown tits sprang fully into view. Big, and full and round. Looking so large against her petite frame, narrow waist, and flared hips.

Delicious.

"And if I still say no?"

"Then this is the last you'll ever see of me and my chest."

 
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