I watch him as he stops walking about ten metres away from the derelict cottage. He’s can’t see me and has no idea he’s not alone—and won’t know any different until it’s too late. He mutters something to himself but I’m too far away to hear the words and his face is expressionless. These are the times when I wish I could read minds.
When he enters the building I silently count to ten before leaving my hiding place and following him, careful not to make a sound. I pause for a moment before entering, my heart thundering in my chest. This is the crucial moment. If he’s facing the door it all ends.
Holding my breath I peek around the corner to find him with his back to me, apparently staring at the fire place, the only feature in the room worth looking at with its rough stone surround and blackened iron grate. I stay silent, suppressing the desire to cheer out loud. He’s standing exactly where I want him to be. I soundlessly approach him from behind, pulling an item from the hold-all I’m carrying as I go. When I’m right behind him I lift my hand and push the black cotton sack over his head in one swift move, pulling the cords tight and tying them before he has a chance to react.
“What the fuck? Who’s there?” He tries to raise his arms but he’s too slow. Now there’s no reason to be quiet anymore I move faster. I drop my bag before grabbing his wrists while pushing him forward until his chest rests on the surprisingly solid table in front of him. Before he has a chance to start struggling, I’ve secured first one and then both hands to the cuffs I tied to the table’s legs earlier.
“Stop it! This isn’t fun.” He pulls at the cuffs, testing their strength. “Let me go.” The anger in his voice is laced with fear and my cock hardens in my pants just from hearing it.
Speed is of the essence now and I kneel down behind him, pulling his tracksuit bottoms down as I go. A jockstrap! How lucky can a man get? I push one of his feet towards the side and secure his ankle with the strap I attached to the table leg long before he arrived.
“No! You can’t. Stop it! Who are you? Why are you doing this?” He’s shouting now, most of the fury gone from his voice while the fear has gotten stronger. I’d thought about bringing a gag too but decided against it. I would have had to use it before taking his sight away and I couldn’t risk having him see me. While I listen to his fear-laced words I pull his free foot out of his trousers before tying that leg to the table too. Less than five minutes have passed and he’s at my mercy. Months of planning, searching, and preparation have come together perfectly.
“Say something, please.”
I stand up and open my trousers, releasing my throbbing dick from its tight confines. I play with the idea of just pushing into him as I am, but think better of it and pull the tube of lube from my bag.
“Please! Nooooo!” Lust courses through my veins at the desperation in his voice as I slowly push myself into his tight hole, only to withdraw again instantly and do it all over again. He falls silent and in the back of my mind I wonder whether he’s surrendered. Then all thoughts leave me as I give in to the desire and take him with as much force as I can. My hands on his shoulders push him hard against the table while I realise I won’t last long. It seems I’ve only started my assault when my orgasm races through me. My arms lose the power to hold me up and I collapse onto his back.
“You bastard.” All anger and fear have disappeared from his voice, leaving only breathlessness.
I reach between his thighs until my hand encounters the sticky front of his jockstrap. “When did you know?” I ask.
“As soon as you entered me.” He chuckles softly. “I’d recognise that cock anywhere.”
This story was rather risqué for me and I’m not entirely sure where it came from. What I do know is that it has left me with a plot bunny which may well prove impossible to ignore. There is a good chance this one will, indeed, be continued J
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