Bound to be Unbound
When the light turned red, I eased onto the brake and brought the car to a stop. For hours, the rain had been relentlessly pounding the city; now the drops struck the w...
This story contains themes of: torture
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She was tense. She had prepared especially for this night. She was wearing a tiny, shimmering silver dress with thin straps that clung to her body. A deep neckline made her perfect breasts—already clearly defined—far more alluring. I slowly placed my hand on her thigh. She turned her gaze toward me as if waking from a dream. I smiled. “Are you excited?” She answered in a whisper: “Yes…” I slowly slid my hand upward along her thigh. First her lips parted, then her legs. My fingers sensed the damp fabric of her lace panties. I pressed gently, testing. What lay between her legs felt like a physical paradox: wet, yet burning hot.
When the light turned red, I eased onto the brake and brought the car to a stop. For hours, the rain had been relentlessly pounding the city; now the drops struck the w...