The Curious Usage of Miss Wolf

I wonder how much trouble I'm in. Mitzi knows I'm here, but there's no way I can reach her. My phone is in my bag, and I have no idea if that's even still in the cupboard -- not that I could reach it from here.

I feel giddy, still charged up with power, yet exhausted in a strange way that will not allow a further lapse of consciousness. Despite my predicament, I feel good.

Of course, if Mr White shows up with a chainsaw...

He comes in. He has no chainsaw. Instead, he's got another giant mug of coffee. He holds it and regards me. I regard him back. My pussy clenches involuntarily, and my body swings.

Mr White sips the coffee. I feel my eyes widen at this physical engagement by him.

"I had to restrain you, goddess."

"Yes," I say.

"I have never seen anything like that."

I gaze down at him, my face serene, my mind in an edgy but fascinating zone, and my body zonked with pleasure.

"You created it," I say.

"Me?"

"Oh yes. You should come and enjoy what you have achieved."

"How?"

"You smelled me earlier. Smell me again. Smell my panties."

He goes to sip coffee again, blinks, forgets what he was about to do.

"Smell the front of them: the core of pleasure; the epicentre. Make it yours."

He takes out his phone, touches a control, and I'm hoisted higher, the movement smooth, the mechanism almost silent. He stops when my groin is at the level of his face. Slowly, he comes forward until he is standing nearby, but not close enough to inhale me.

He drinks coffee, as if it will give him strength, then throws the cup away, although without enough force to break it, perhaps because he is distracted. He looks up at me, and I can't tell if he hesitates because he wants to put off the moment that will change everything for him, or because he is scared.

He takes off his glasses, and looks at them, then puts them in his pocket. They clink against the vial or the bottle; whichever one is in there, but this time he ignores it and steps closer.

When he reaches for my hips, his gloved hands shake. He finally takes hold of me, his grip still firm but weaker than it was, perhaps through confusion, perhaps desire. He leans forward, and smells me between my legs.

A great shudder convulses him, and he pushes up my skirt to expose my tights and the wet panties they hold. When he presses his whole face against the soaked padding containing me, a strange high sound comes from him, and I realise he is weeping. His body jerks as mine did, but with emotion rather than climax. His tears are so many I feel them soaking me, hot and powerful.

He cries for a long time, and it is eerie, and beautiful, and so deeply erotic I feel myself gather and thicken again. The movement in my panties bothers him, as though something is going to take his joy away, and I whisper that it's all right, everything is all right.

"I never knew..." he whispers.

Then he looks down at the bulge in his trousers, and gasps in surprise.

"You'd better let me down," I say.

His hands are shaking so much he almost drops the phone, and I worry he'll just let the winch declutch and drop me a metre to the floor. He gets me down safely though, and scrabbles the harness off, and then I sink to my knees because there's no feeling in my legs after dangling about for that long.

I get his trousers down and his cock in my mouth before either of us can say or do anything else. I think I can allow my strict safe sex policy to relax for this occasion, given that Mr White is either a virgin or such a phenomenal actor he deserves a naked sucking. I'm betting the former, especially given that I quickly get that hot flooding sense and the mushroomy seafood taste of cum. There's loads too; I suspect he's never cum before. I swallow it all, because this feels special, as though I have been chosen for a divine rite.

He softens in my mouth, but does not withdraw. I suck him some more, and get his balls in my mouth too, giving the whole set a thorough licking. After a while he hardens again; definitely a virgin, he doesn't have any imposed expectations about recovery time, he just likes the feel of my mouth and my tongue, and the erotic charge of my presence.

As I work, I reach behind me, pull my tights and panties down, then slip the dildo out. It thuds to the floor, and Mr White's phone beeps.

"Oh," he says, "I --"

I'm on my feet and bent over, legs obeying me finally. And then he is in me.

He gasps, grabs at me, and I almost lose my balance.

"Kneel me down," I say, and he does. Then I subside to the floor on my front with him still inside me, and he starts to thrust. He is determined but inexperienced, and gives me a fast pounding that jolts me across the floor. While not the calculated ecstasy he gave me with the dildo, there really is nothing like a good cock in you. I give myself up to it, to my wrecked clothes, my soaked hair, my exhausted body, so in the moment that I don't care about anything.

My head is banged against something; I look up and see the printer. As Mr White continues to fuck me, I try and focus on getting the front cover off and the ink cartridge out. However, he is going at me with the same degree of forceful enthusiasm he had with the whip, and it's hard to keep my hands steady.

I focus, and spot the paper jam. It's one of those situations in which a piece has been ripped off, leaving a torn off bit under the roller. The roller can't be removed of course; that would be too easy.

Oh God, my pussy is a magic place right now.

I use my nails to tease at the paper's ragged edge.

My skirt front has ridden down; it's still wet and Big Clit is being rubbed against it.

If I tear any more paper off, I'll never get the rest out.

Mr White is moaning, he will come soon.

Time is running out -- I have to do this now.

Big Clit is at full snarl; I will come soon too.

Just a little tweak -- yes! Got the bastard.

I'm being thrust hard against the floor now; it's getting hard to see.

Gently, gently...

Mr White grips me around the chest and head, so I can barely move. My head is at an odd angle as I glare into the printer's depths.

I feel my own hot rush, starting from my pussy this time and crashing forward with tidal force.

Got it...

Mr White screams and I tense to hold him off so I don't get my head smashed against the printer.

I slam the cartridge back in and shut the printer door.

...And come hard, as hard as before, as the printer beeps, the red light goes out and the ink cartridge arms swipes from left to right unobstructed.

I subside into Mr White's grip as he cums kissing me, lips against my cheek, arms clasping me tight. I notice he has taken off his gloves...

We lie like that for a long while. He is processing what has just happened, and I am gently descending from a combination of highs amid deep post-coital satisfaction. He does not want to let go; despite his firm grip, I wonder if he has passed out, but then he says, "You let me have you without protection."

"I want to save you," I say.

"You already have, my daughter. I don't think you'll ever know what you've done for me tonight."

I remember my own youth, with its stamped-down desires, politely screaming frustration, and a sense that I existed cut off from the world somehow, as though in a test tube, or bell jar.

"I've got a pretty good idea," I say, and he kisses my mouth this time.