Will Cuts Class Ch. 03

"Fuck. You," she said, grinning.

Over the next hour or so, I discovered I had a competitive streak a mile wide that I had never been aware of.

***

"Oh is that so?" I smiled, surprised at her vehemence but reassured that I was definitely doing this stuff right, or so it seemed. It made me want to see more of that feral look, to see how far I could move her into complete, begging desperation. The idea that I'd gotten to her, if only for a moment, that I'd outwitted her and taken her to a completely authentic, out-of-control place, made me incredibly hot. And I realized that the more I simply indulged my imagination, the better I got at this.

My imagination was being very helpful, as a matter of fact. There were several things I'd thought of already. But as long as she was standing...

I wanted to see her spreadeagled against the shelves, just to see how she looked like that, but with the whole bucket arrangement, that was rather impractical and awkward. I could just tie her ankles to the sides of the shelf, but I was thinking a great deal about how much of this was already a game of the mind.

"Here's what I'm going to do now, I think. I'm going to undo your ankles, and move you forward. But I feel like I need a similar incentive for you to not move. So I'm going to do this." I unhooked the ties from the buckets and shifted her forward so that she stood up against the shelves. I spread her legs, much wider this time, since she would have support to keep her balance. I looped the ties loosely around the legs of the shelving unit, but didn't tie them. There was still hope that they wouldn't be completely ruined...

Again, I was a little disconcerted by how the ways I was having to think technically, rationally, about these operations didn't seem to lower my arousal, but rather heightened it. It was as if my mind finally had a way to participate in the project, rather than just hanging around and trying not to get in the way while it was happening. The science of the whole thing, the mechanics, the ways in which I had to stay one step ahead of bijou's not unconsiderable intellect, to take her by surprise... All of these things, I'd have expected, would have taken the fun out of sex. Instead, they seemed to be putting the fun back into it.

To take her. By surprise. my mind held the phrase, turned it round and round as if it were looking at a puzzle.

"I think I'm just going to lay a pen down at each of your feet," I murmured, and took two out of the shirt pocket nearby. I laid them next to her arches. "If they don't get moved, maybe later we can go back to that possibility of you sucking my cock." Please don't move, I thought, because I really, really want to go back there, and I'm not sure I'd be able to keep my word on NOT doing it. "Does that... motivate you at all?"

"Right now I could feasibly kill to suck your cock, after what you just did to me," she said in a terribly calm voice. "So, yeah."

"Well, that's excellent," I chuckled at her intensity. "I just keep guessing right, don't I?"

I took one of her wrists and raised it up, holding it at different angles and heights, just looking at the picture. She watched me curiously, with a bit of a smile, and I assiduously ignored her.

"Mm. This one," I said. "I'm thinking, right about there." And I placed her hand far along the shelf just above her head, stretching the tie over the rest of the way to the support. This time I was going to have to actually tie a knot, and I cringed as the burgundy silk wrinkled and crushed. Then again, I thought, looking at the firm square knot in the fabric, there was something pretty artistic about that. Make a good photograph, I thought, her thin white wrist, the fingers curved around the edge of the shelf, the wine color of the silk in a smooth band around her wrist, even the knot in the ends of the tie, rather thick and masculine, expensive silk against a cheap metal utility shelf. Texture, color, contrast, narrative, it was all contained in the frame.

Focused, I tied up her other arm. When I yanked a bit on the tie to stretch her arm out to its limit, she sucked in her breath. I paused, and then pulled her a bit further. She moaned. She was stretched quite tightly against the shelf already, but she certainly wasn't in any pain. That must be arousal I was hearing. I pulled again, just a little further, and she cooed. I tied off the knot, roughly this time, and tightly. I noted with pleasure that the shelves were actually bolted to the wall at the back. Someone had put some thought into that...

She twisted her hands, suddenly, and turned them in the ties so that she actually held the original knot in her palm, wrapping her fingers around it. The silk made a smooth loop across the back of her wrist. I stepped back to look at the picture. Her legs were quite wide apart, and her arms stretched out at a lovely angle. She had very good arms.

Oh, what to do first. It was a bit like having a dessert cart wheeled to one's table. I moved up behind her and brought my hands round to embrace her, running my hands across the various planes and complex curves she made, feeling where her muscles rippled and pulsed as she moved toward my hands. With her legs spread this wide, she was a little shorter than usual, and I buried my face in her hair, breathed the scent around her neck. Unconsciously, my hands went to her nipples, and I lost myself in rubbing, pulling on them, squeezing her small breasts under my palms, pinching her nipples harder, and even harder until I heard her gasp. my whole body was hot, and my cock throbbed, still thrust out of my slacks and now pressed against the curve of her spine.

One hand moved down between her legs and I began to toy with her, just to explore at my leisure the little angles and folds, enjoying the moisture and the little moans I seemed to be inspiring. God, I wanted her, wanted to do everything to her at once, my cock everywhere, my hands everywhere. As the thought occupied me , my hands unconsciously tightened on her, gripping one breast and her mons, hard. Before I could catch myself and loosen up, she groaned and writhed back against my hips.

To take her. By surprise, my mind said again. To take her. I slid my hand down her back and found her pussy, and without preamble thrust two fingers all the way into her, hard, banging up until I felt like I could almost lift her off the ground. She groaned, and almost cried out.

"Too loud, love," I said, not slowing down, fucking her steadily with my hand. Her breathing was ragged and her teeth were clenched. "Here, let me help." I lifted the other hand off her clit and raised it up to thrust a knuckle between her teeth. "I don't have to tell you that if you bite too hard I'll stop, right?" She whimpered, and her head nodded just slightly. She drew my thick knuckle between her lips and sucked, hard, and her moans were quiet but intense as my fingers continued to ram into her, rhythmically.

"Somehow, you put me in mind of a kite, in that position," I breathed into her ear, not slowing my rhythm. One advantage of talking to her was that it tended to keep her quiet. Or at least a little less loud. "Suck that while I talk," I murmured, pressing my knuckle into her mouth a little further. It was an evocative size and shape in that position. She was alternately, whimpering, squealing and moaning, but it was muffled as she focused fiercely on sucking me . "You're all stretched taut, and white as paper, and there's something very airy about you, as if you could just catch one gust of wind and go sailing up..." and I slowed my rhythm slightly, ramming intently upward into her even more deeply, actually lifting her onto her toes. Her moans were completely surrendered, vibrating around my finger.

I took her, and took her, raising her nearly off the floor, until I felt like she was truly focused on nothing but the sensation of being fucked. Her head was back, eyes closed, and her hips were rocking in time with my fingers. I watched her carefully, and when it seemed like she was completely overtaken and involved in nothing but my fingers in her mouth and cunt, I abruptly pulled away and took two steps back.

Her reaction was electrifying. Her head whipped forward and sideways, straining to look back at me . Her whole body arched in deep frustration, writhing in its constraints. And the sound she made was a keening, angry whine, filled with rage. Her fists clenched around the ties and she fought against the bonds, genuinely frustrated by them.

I watched her, and my hand moved to stroke my cock. To have a woman so hungry for me that she was truly furious... it was amazing. I moved forward and thrust my fingers into her again, hard, once, twice, and again until I could tell that she thought I was back for more, and then again withdrew. Now her rage was even higher. This was honestly fucking with her, and it amazed me how easy I was finding it, how naturally I was coming to an understanding of her responses. What was more, it was making me more aroused than I could remember feeling -- a hot red lust that would have blotted out every thought, if my mind weren't balancing it so well. I felt like the top of my head was lifting off. I wanted to simply grab her right then, bend her over and slam steadily into her until I came, but on the other hand, my mind, now finally becoming an ally in the process, was busy wondering what sort of operations might be more possible if she were untied and bent over that table nearby...

The mix of completely primitive lust and coolly intellectual distance within me was fascinating. And I noticed that, as I stood at a slight distance from her, ruminating on my next step and appreciating the lovely way she was genuinely struggling with the bonds around her wrists, her frustration was rising to a completely desperate pitch. In a sense, I could drive her completely mad simply by standing still.

I moved quietly forward, and with one hand traced very lightly down the center of her belly to her mons, and found her cherry with a single fingertip. I held it completely still, just barely touching, and she writhed and mewled, pleading with me .

"You're liking my finger there?" I inquired as calmly as I could. She whimpered and nodded. "You're certainly on your way toward coming right now, am I right? Like, if I did this, for example," and I began to circle lightly, to flicker my finger slickly over her little button the way I'd seen her work on herself, "and if I kept it up, do you think that would make you come?" She nodded, humming plaintively. "Especially if I sped up, just a little bit, like this?" Her voice went up a couple of pitches, and her whine became a clear petition.

"Well, then, I'd better stop," I said abruptly. "But that's good to know." And I stepped to a safe distance. Her head whiplashed back and her body went into a raging spasm. "Ffffffuck..." she panted. "You bastard." Gingerly, I stepped toward her, still feeling like I didn't want to get too close, just in case the ties didn't hold. I peered round to look at her face. Her gaze could only be described as murderous. Again, I wondered if I'd gone too far. "Seriously?" I asked.

"You," she said, her face slowly transforming into that Boudicea grin again, "are a complete monster. An inhuman motherfucker with a very deep twisted streak." She was still panting, and her hips seemed to be shaking uncontrollably. But she was smiling. And she hadn't said 'seriously'.

I did my best to sound terribly wounded. "Here I'm sacrificing some very expensive ties for you and all you can do is complain. Monster, indeed. Where's the gratitude?" and I moved back again, a little involuntarily, when she growled.

I found my mind wandering back to that phrase. By surprise. To take her. It gave me so many ideas at once.

I considered the fact that I could reach more of her with more of me if she were somehow bent over. I backed up and looked around the room, ignoring the fact that she was genuinely twisting her hands, as if testing the strength of the restraints. I decided to go ahead and take my pants the rest of the way off -- I had finally noticed the discomfort of having my erection half-trapped in the open zipper, and as I undid my belt I remembered momentarily where I was.

"How long can we stay here, o she-who-tramples-imported-silk?" I thought I heard a chuckle.

"No time limit tonight, Torquemada," she said, and glanced at me over her shoulder with a raised eyebrow.

"Interesting," I said. And took off my pants.

* to be continued *