Palm Sunday

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No better way to spend Palm Sunday morning.
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I met a man named Robin at my usual pub on a Wednesday night. We only chatted briefly that night, throwing a couple games of darts. Then he happened to be there again that Saturday night, Palm Sunday Eve, when I was there throwing darts with one of my girlfriends. Robin has short brown hair and steel gray eyes, very delicate features that are almost girlish, and very expressive eyebrows that give him a wicked look when he arches them. Robin is about five-foot-eight or -nine and very thin and frail looking. He wears glasses. Robin still looks too young to drink. He tends to wear large clothes that make him look even thinner. I was not initially attracted to Robin, but on that Saturday night when he asked if he could join our dart game, I invited him to join us because I had met him before.

Eventually my girlfriend had to go home to relieve her baby-sitter, and Robin and I continued throwing darts and talking for hours. Time flew, and before we knew it, it was time for last call.

"I hate being here at closing time," I confessed to Robin.

"Me, too," he agreed. "Let's go somewhere else."

Our options were limited at that hour. We could go to a noisy, expensive after-hours bar, to a Waffle House, or to one of our homes. Since Robin had just moved and did not have his dartboard hung yet, we went my house, where we continued to throw darts and drink.

It so happened that Robin and I had a lot in common. And you'd have thought that we'd have figured that out from the hints in the conversation, but, as I've said, I don't think either of us started out wanting a sexual relationship. I wasn't attracted to Robin. But when he finally mentioned openly that he had an affinity for bondage, the conversation turned to preferences. I could feel my nipples hardening as Robin described in minute detail the wrist cuffs he had made out of leather and Velcro. And the arch of his eyebrow when I mentioned my interest in being restrained with electrical cords made my pussy wet.

But neither of us seemed ready to take that extra step towards fucking. Finally, at about 5 am, Robin said it was time for him to go. He put on his jacket and walked to the door. I walked with him, hugging him gently when he turned from the door to say goodnight. He hugged me back and our lips met. His mouth was soft, like a girl's. Our lips met, softly, briefly.

I looked up at Robin through my lowered lashes to see that wicked look on his face again as he suddenly pulled my wrists together and over my head with one of his hands as he bit my lip. I jumped a little, and Robin grinned. I twisted my hands, but couldn't get them free. His grip was incredibly strong, much stronger than he appeared able to produce. His mouth traced the edge of my face moving down to my neck. He bit violently at the tender skin on my neck and shoulder. I strained to release my hands from his and learned I couldn't, which soaked my crotch immediately. Robin licked and bit his way back to my mouth where he plunged his tongue into my mouth, scraping his teeth over my tongue as I met his violent kiss.

After just a very few minutes of this, I felt as if I would scream. "I really have to get to bed," I whispered.

Robin sighed and released my hands. "All right," he agreed quietly, moving back the tiniest bit as if he were about to leave. I caught him with my arms around his neck.

"I was rather hoping you'd go with me," I continued.

Robin's eyebrow arched again, and an evil grin appeared as he inclined his head slightly to meet mine. We bit and licked and sucked and kissed at each other, stopping only to remove our shirts and lay together on the floor of my living room. Robin held my hands down to my sides; nothing I could do would break them free. He bit and sucked at my rock-hard nipples. I could not move at all. What an aphrodisiac! He used his teeth as often as his lips or tongue as he roamed my body. His teeth hurt me; it felt soooo good!

He let go of me to unfasten my jeans. I immediately popped the buttons open on his. "You don't wear underwear, either," I noted with surprise.

"Underwear is boring," he grinned, softly stroking my pussy as he maneuvered out of his jeans. I noticed that his pubic hair had been cut very short. His dick was much larger than I would have expected on a man as thin as he was. I wanted to taste it. I practically begged for it as he held my two hands immobile in one of his again, stroking my clit softly, slowly, looking down into my eyes to gage my reaction. My hips ground helplessly as he lay across me, doing something somehow with his jaw braced against my face and my legs pinned by his that kept my entire body completely immobile. I couldn't budge. I came repeatedly on his fingers.

Finally, Robin sat astride me, his knees pinning my arms, that gloriously fat cock of his pulsing between my tits. Robin thoughtfully propped up my head with a couch pillow so I could suck and lick the tip of his cock while he fucked my tits.

His prick tasted as good as it looked, and I flicked my tongue along the head, squirming as he tightly pinched my nipples. I stared into his steely eyes, then scraped my teeth along the head of his cock. His cock lurched between my lips and his eyelids fluttered, the first sign beyond the erection itself that I was having any effect on him at all. I nibbled my way down his cock as he began to fuck it deeper into my mouth. He was very careful not to go too deeply into my throat, even as he came with my hands in his hands, still holding me down.

I desperately needed to feel him inside me. He rolled on top of me, pinning me as before, teeth tantalizing my nipples, as he began to slowly work his cock into my quivering pussy. He worked the head in, making tiny little strokes that did nothing to satisfy me. Soon I was mewling frantically, begging to have his cock inside me. He sank it slowly to the hilt, stretching my soaked cunt wide, then removed it and began teasing me again. Over and over he would slowly sink his shaft until it ground against my cervix just to slowly withdraw and tease again.

When he finally slammed it into me, I saw stars. I couldn't breathe. He fucked me as solidly as I had ever been fucked in my life, then fucked even harder. My body spasmed and shook in a raw fury of sensations as he built speed. I was soon coming, and I didn't stop coming on his thick, swollen prick until he spewed deep inside of me, shuddering against me in complete silence as his eyes closed tightly, and then relaxed, buried in my spastic cunt.

As we curled up together in my bed and drifted to sleep, I commented, "There are a lot of worse ways to spend Palm Sunday." Robin just smiled against my face and bit me.

I ran into Robin again at my usual pub just a couple of weeks ago. He offered to take me home and show me those leather and Velcro handcuffs. What do you think I did?

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