Wanderlust Pt. 01

Max is sitting naked in the office chair, the giant portrait looming behind her. She's got a two-day shadow of pubic hair, and she's wearing a narrow black collar.

"Seriously," she says, "This shit doesn't happen in real life. You better fucking enjoy it."

At that moment, Natalia walks in, four inches taller than before on the stiletto heels I recognize from the boots painted on the wall. She's wearing a black demi-cup corset, which creates deep cleavage but leaves her nipples exposed. Her pussy is perfectly smooth, as though she's just touched it up while changing. She's still wearing her thigh high fishnets, and she's holding what looks like a roll of black duct tape in one hand.

"In case you haven't guessed, this is Natalia's creative outlet," Max says. "She's a genius."

It's the last thing Max is able to say, because Natalia covers her mouth with what I now recognize as latex bondage tape. Next are her wrists, bound to the armrests on the chair.

"I told you to get a chair with four legs so that I can spread you wide open. I'm disappointed, Max. You never listen."

Natalia turns Max's chair so that she's facing the portrait, her back to me, and plants herself between Max's legs. She's sitting on the overturned trash bin. She peers over Max's shoulder and looks me right in the eye.

"Don't you move. Don't try to get a better look, don't ask any questions, don't even say a word. And don't you even fucking think about touching yourself."

These seem like impossible commands, but Natalia's deadly serious tone has persuaded me to do my best to obey them. I watch Max's head fall back over the edge of the chair as Natalia works on her. I can see Natalia's boot-covered knees visible on either side of the chair, the same boots on the wall, now illuminated by several wide red candles. I can't see what Natalia's doing, so all I can do is listen. I hear cars speeding through yellow lights on the streets below, the hum of compressors on the roof, Max's insistent moaning, and in the moments when those other noises pause, the soft, wet sound of whatever it is Natalia's working on.

As I watch, I shift ever so slightly back and forth in my chair so that my pants rub against my cock. It's a momentary relief that only ends of getting me harder. The harder I get, the more pronounced my movements become. The chair creaks. Natalia looks up, and she's not happy.

"I warned you," she says coldly.

She walks over and wraps my wrists tight to the armrests. Once I'm immobilized she unbuttons my shirt and pulls my undershirt up over my face so that I can't see a thing. She undoes my belt and pulls my pants and underwear to the ground, tangling my legs so that I feel that much more helpless.

I hear her steps walking back to Max's chair, then the sound of the chair swiveling toward me, and then a series of increasingly loud moans as Natalia pushes her relentlessly toward orgasm. It's as if she had planned to bring Max along slowly, but when I disobeyed her she decided to subject my helpless throbbing cock to the sound of Max careening toward climax, as punishment.

When Max comes, my entire body shudders once, then shudders again as my cock pulses a dry, agonizing orgasm.

I can't hear anything, can't see anything, until the sound of laughter brings me back. Natalia pulls down my shirt, and pauses to admire how hard my cock is. "Good work, Max," she says, and for a second it looks like they're about to high five. I look at Max and see that her red, engorged pussy is ringed with about twelve clothes pins. A large dildo is resting on the floor three feet in front of Max, where it had landed after she came.

"I don't think I've ever seen a guy cum like that before," says Max. "Are you okay, Natalia's friend?"

And with that, the scene is over.