He sounded slightly out of breath, either from exertion or excitement as he said to Damon, “Untie her arms. I want her to be able to lean forward.”
Damon silently complied while Garvey went to the bar and picked up the ice bucket. He dumped some of the ice out, and replaced it with some water from the tap. Returning with it, he told Damon to hold my arms behind my back, and to bend me forward, which he did.
He slowly raised the ice bucket up from below my downward-dangling breast, stopping just as my nipple dipped into the icy water. Reflexively, I jerked upwards against Damon’s grip, removing my nipple from the water. Holding the bucket in one hand, he wound a bunch of my long blonde hair around his other hand, and used it to pull me back down. This time, my nipple dipped into the frigid water and stayed there. I gasped as the shock of the cold ran through my breast. He gave me a moment to get used to how that felt, and then he lifted the bucket, submerging most of my tit. I tried to jerk upright again, but he used his firm grip on my hair to immediately pull me back down, keeping my tit in the cold water.
“Those tits of yours looked like I’d gotten them pretty hot. You should be thanking me for helping cool them off,” he teased. “But how careless of me, I’ve only cooled off the one.”
By this point, even though my tit was still painfully cold, I was beginning to get used to it. So of course he was going to switch to the other one. This time there was none of that business with just my nipple, as with a surprisingly quick motion, he plunged my other tit all the way into the water. Involuntarily, I gasped again, which was not easy to do with a ball-gag in my mouth. He left it in there only as long as it took for me to get over the shock. It was sort of like when you jump into a cold pool or lake. There’s the initial shock, then after a short time you get used to it. This did take a little longer with actual ice-water, and even though it never got comfortable, the initial pain did eventually subside.
Setting the bucket down on the floor, he used both hands to fondle my tits.
“Wow, those are maybe the hardest nipples I’ve even felt,” he said, sounding proud of himself.
He looked down at my pussy, and said, “Hey, Damon, help me get her out of this chair. I gotta fuck this slut.”
I thought he’d play with me more before getting to that, but I guess abusing a girl’s boobs did it for him. Once Damon had my ankles untied, I let Garvey lead me over to one of the large, overstuffed sofas. He bent me over one of the arms, which put my pussy at just about at dick-height for him.
“God, bitch, you got my dick so damn hard.”
Even though he was a smaller guy, his dick wasn’t. It wasn’t huge or anything, but I’d seen smaller ones on six-foot-two linebackers. To be fair, the linebacker had exhibited remarkable stamina, and his raw strength was also a big turn-on for me. That had been an amazing party, and not just because of him. But, I digress.
Spreading my labia with his fingers, he poked the head of his dick at my pussy entrance, let go of my lips, and thrust himself into me. He wasn’t the only one excited by what he’d been doing to my tits, so my very wet pussy made it easy for him to slide on in. He wasn’t kidding, his dick was pretty hard, and I gave a sigh of pleasure as he filled me. He began fucking me, not forcefully, but steady, as he squeezed and kneaded my ass. Was this it? That whole list of stuff he wanted to do, skipped because he couldn’t wait to fuck me?
I should have known better. His dick had just started to take the edge off of my horniness, when he abruptly pulled out. He gave my ass a hard slap, and scolded, “Oh, damn, bitch, that was close. Your tight pussy almost got me there, but it’s too soon for our fun to be over.”
See, this is why I like gang-bangs. If there were a bunch of other guys here, I’d already have another hard, energetic dick stroking away inside me. Instead, my pussy was aching for a cock even more than when he started fucking me. I moaned in frustration at being empty so soon.
He walked around from behind me, and unbuckled my ball-gag. He stuck his index finger in my face, and said, “Lick it.”
It wasn’t like it had pussy juice on it or anything, but sure, ok. I opened my mouth, took his finger in, and licked it.
“Lick it good, bitch. You want it nice and wet, trust me.”
I knew what that meant, so I got that finger as wet as I could.
He took it out, walked back down behind me.
He gave my ass another hard slap, and said, “Spread for me, bitch.”
I wasn’t tied down, which was unusual for me at my parties, so I was able to reach back and grab an asscheek in each hand, and pull them apart.
“Nice,” he said, and I felt the damp tip of his finger press against my asshole. He wiggled it, trying to work his way in, and I let out a long breath and tried to relax back there. I knew from experience that if a guy wanted it in, he’d get it in, and the only question was, could I make it easy on both him and me by relaxing that tight little ring quickly enough.
I pulled a little harder, and a couple seconds later his fingertip slipped into my ass.
“See? Told you the wetter the better,” he said.
Now that he’d penetrated that hole, it was easy for him to keep pushing, and it wasn’t long before I felt his knuckles press against my ass, his finger all the way up my back passage. He held it there for a long second, then I felt him turn and wiggle it around, and I made little “eeeh, eeeh “noises as he pressed against the walls of my rectum.
Having a finger stuck up my ass feels, weirdly, even more intimate and more degrading than if it was a dick. I’m not sure why that is, exactly, but guys must feel it too, because they sure seem to enjoy doing it. Maybe it’s the fact that when they do it with their dick, it’s for them to feel good. That nice tight hole gives them so much sensation that often they get to their orgasm even more quickly than if they were in a pussy. But when it’s their finger, it’s almost completely about dominance and submission. More of a “hey, bitch, look what I can do to you” sort of thing.
Whatever the reason, it seemed to please him, because he kept at it for a while. Long enough, actually, for it to start to feel pretty good. He pulled his finger out, and expected him to replace it with his dick. I just hoped he planned to use some lube — being wet barely worked for a finger, it was not enough for a penis.
What I felt next, however, wasn’t his dick, it was him trying to work two fingers in. I squealed, which was apparently the reaction he wanted, as I heard him chuckle. Fortunately, his having gotten things started with one finger it was now loose enough that two wasn’t that painful, although I sure as hell felt it. One finger was a show of dominance, but two was all about making it painful.
I tried to relax as he did the same wiggling and twisting that he’d first done with just a single finger. Two fingers did have the potential to be even more pleasurable than one, but only if he carefully and gently focused on massaging the right spot, which, of course, he was not doing.
I won’t list every groan and yelp I emitted as he crooked his fingers, tried to spread his fingers, and rotated his hand to better ream me, but after a while, I guess I’d made all the noises he wanted to hear.
“Yeah, never had a bitch let me do that,” he exclaimed, as he pulled his fingers out.
If his goal had been to humiliate me, it had worked. There aren’t many things that make me feel more used than a guy just feeling around in my ass. I felt like a total slut, which was also very hot.
“Hey,” he said to Damon, “I’m going to wash my hands. I want to tie her down to the bed next.”
“Back or stomach?” asked Damon.
“On her back. I’m probably done with her ass.”
Yep, all about dominance and pain. This guy knew how to push all the right buttons for me!
I got up off the sofa, and walked into the bedroom that Damon had pointed at, while he gathered up some ropes. Most times, the guys at my parties tie me down with leather or nylon cuffs, and light chains or nylon straps. Those are way quicker and easier, especially for guys who aren’t into ropes and knots as a bondage art form. But this trip was going to be all about ropes. What else would guys who ran a rope company use?
Damon had finished tying my arms to the upper corners of the bed, and was just starting on my legs when Garvey came back. He was carrying a fresh bottle of beer, as well as the champagne bottle he’d mentioned earlier. I had really hoped he wasn’t serious about that.
As I had feared, the shiny aluminum bottle was so cold it was already showing little drops of condensation. At least the champagne hadn’t been chilled yet, and was at room temperature.
“Get those legs spread wide. I got plans for that pussy,” he said.
Damon nodded, and pulled the ropes attached to my ankles just a little bit tighter before tying them off, spreading my legs even wider than he’d been planning to.
As always, the time I spend in my yoga classes is worthwhile. I’m able to spread my legs wide enough to impress the guys tying me down, but still be quite comfortable. Most of the time, that is. Every so often I come across a guy who can actually tell that I’m just making it seem like my legs are spread as wide as they go. In those cases, I can wind up with my legs spread cheerleader wide, uncomfortable and sometimes even painful after a while. Damon either wasn’t one of those guys, or he had no personal desire to spread me like that, so comfortable is where he stopped.
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