Miranda was surging, her mind was hard, and she needed to fuck someone.
Sometimes, Miranda felt as if she could grow a dick just by closing her eyes and forcing the sex hormones in her body down like daggers between her well-shaped, muscular thighs.
When she felt particularly fired up, this thought would cross her mind. If she couldn't grow a dick, maybe she could pick a fight, down some Jim Beam, or just get fucked. Get fucked, harder than she's ever been fucked. Or, she could simply strap one on and fuck a hot man up his tight ass.
Punch, punch, punch, punch. Into her cell phone, a brief text message to the Boy. "Get over here. Now."
Reply, "Fifteen minutes?"
The fact that the "Boy" was a professional handsome man roughly her age notwithstanding; in this context, he was strictly the Boy. And her Boy needed to get fucked.
How did she know? She didn't, and what's more, she didn't care. His needs were irrelevant. He'd get fucked. He'd like it. He always did, as did she. Mutually assured destruction of wants.
She kept the apartment dark, as was her custom. As soon as the bell rang, she was ready. Striding quickly in her four-inch black pumps, she opened the door just wide enough for his slim body to gain access. His leather jacket, damp from the rain, already smelled like rawhide and chilled her as she pulled him close and kissed him hard, consuming his lips as his face grazed hers, his stubble providing a satisfying and slight burn. The kiss, hard and urgent, seemed to last hours but ended with her hard shove against his chest. She slid her strong leg between his, pressed her full chest against him, pinning him against the brick wall. Her hands free, she was able to rip free enough duct tape to shut his wanting mouth. She'll hear enough from him later, but now she demanded his compliance and his silence. His steely blue eyes burned with passion and not a small amount of fearful anticipation, staring into her deep brown eyes.
Without breaking her gaze, she pulled his hands behind his back, winding tape around his wrists and muscular forearms without detaching it from the roll. With a sharp rip, Miranda secured his wrists and skillfully slid down, crouching in front of the Boy's twitching cock but barely acknowledging it. She carelessly undid his pants and pushed them to the ground, pulling them off over his shoes. Almost angrily, Miranda pulled the Boy's shoes off; almost gently, she pulled his tenting damp boxer shorts over his tense muscular legs and removed them.
Clad in a Tshirt and tape, the Boy looked almost helpless. She slipped the roll of tape behind his thighs and unrolled a length; he winced, knowing the pain to come later. She strapped his thighs together in three quick winds of the tape, smoothing it down just beneath his swollen balls.
Miranda stood up and allowed herself a brief moment to admire her work. She grasped his bound wrists and shoved him awkwardly towards her darkened bedroom. The Boy tottered like a kimono-clad geisha, stutter-stepping and sliding across the floor. Miranda kept a firm grip on his shoulder as she urged him along. Entering the bedroom, Miranda gave him a hard shove, landing him face-down and helpless on the bed, which, if it's not clear, was exactly where he belonged.
Not a word was spoken as Miranda slipped off her skirt, revealing a well-worn studded leather harness, secured over her voluptuous hips and nearly obscuring her black lace panties. The rough leather straps contrasted with her smooth black lace-top stockings. Miranda ran her hand over her curvy thigh, feeling the contrasting textures, heat and wetness building behind the lace.
Miranda grasped the Boy's shoulder, pushing him on his back so he could watch; see, be seen, but not heard. Perfect. His cock was unstoppable, growing fiercely hard in anticipation.
She raised one leg, balancing her heel on the edge of the bed, as she reached over the Boy to retrieve her firm silicon play-cock. Six inches long and nicely thick, soft to the touch but firm enough to fuck, it was her favorite, and his too, despite the tremble that washed across his tight body whenever she brought it out.
He watched, wide-eyed, as she caressed it, fitting it expertly into the ring on the front of the harness. Sometimes, he knew, she would tear the tape from his face and force him to suck her cock; tonight, however, she just wanted to fuck.
Miranda had a bottle of lube handy, but didn't need it just yet. Its presence, casually tossed on the bed, was simply a reminder of what was shortly to come. She stroked her own cock expertly, as he watched intently, and then moved her hand to his flesh-cock, caressing with her soft hands, running her fingers up and down the shaft, teasing his balls on the downstroke. She could hear him groan behind the firm swath of tape across his lips; his eyes closed, his legs pressed together making his cock rise even higher. She continued to stroke him until copious trails of precum streamed from the head, wetting her fingers.
Her hand roamed past his balls, between his bound thighs, finding sufficient space to slip her hand between and caress him just behind his swollen package. Miranda's fingers were firm, circling the sensitive spot between his cock and ass with gently increasing pressure. The Boy was transported by the sensations, moaning deeply behind his gagged lips. His eyes closed for a moment, then opened to see Miranda's finger slide lasciviously between her pouty lips. In and out her finger slid, wetting it generously as she smiled at her helpless Boy.
Roughly, she flipped the Boy onto his stomach; he wriggled awkwardly as his rigid cock pressed into the mattress. Her firm hand on his shoulder stopped his wriggling, as her wet finger began to probe his tight, wanting asshole gently. No sense in rushing; patience was the key; anticipation would heighten, the Boy would relax and tense simultaneously, knowing what was to come.
One wet finger, then two. Sliding in and out. Without stopping, she reached across the bed and the helpless Boy for her bottle of lube. Sliding in and out with one hand, she poured a generous complement on her strapped-in cock, rubbing it with the other hand to spread and warm it, readying herself. As she stroked the silicone spear between her legs, her soaking hand wandered between her thighs, into her now-dripping cunt, mixing the lube with her own wetness on her hand and on her masterful toy.
Now, the toy, and she, were soaked and ready. So was the Boy, whose helpless hard cock was dripping profusely.
He drew his knees up, presenting his stretched and tense ass in the air, responding to the pressure of her hand and her movements on the bed behind him. Her wet hand pushed between his crack as she slowly removed her two fingers, dripping in lube and her juices with her damp hand. She kneeled on one knee, expertly positioning the cock at the horizon of his open and now-lubed asshole. Her strap-on was soaked with lube and slowly pushed against him, finding its way inside, the soft-firm head popping in causing the Boy to let out a muffled cry of anguished pleasure.
She slowly thrust her leather-strapped hips forward, pushing it further and further in, burying the slickly wet hilt inside him. Her hands gripped his tensed hips and muscular ass more surely, as she rhythmically began to thrust and pound him fully. They were joined, cock in ass, his man-cock throbbing as she fucked him with abandon, clenching her thighs as they pressed against his, closer and closer. Miranda could feel him bucking back against her as he was overcome with the crazy sensations. She slid a hand underneath his belly, stroking his cock as she continued to pound his ass.
Faster, harder, deeper, until all at once she pulled out, causing the Boy to jump, falling face down into the mattress helpless and quivering. She speedily slit the tape at his wrists, and roughly shoved him onto his back. Her timing was perfect. He immediately grasped his swollen cock, gripping and stroking it as Miranda watched breathlessly. She slipped a fresh, large dildo into her dripping pussy, shoving aside the leather harness and her nearly torn panties, pushing the substantial shaft upwards as she clenched it with her cunt-muscles. Standing, watching the gagged and excited Boy bring himself off, Miranda could barely contain her own ecstacy, fucking herself as hard as she'd fucked the Boy, moaning, her back arched and her thighs trembling.
First the Boy came, hard, his taut body practically levitating from the bed as come shot from his cock. Then, Miranda dropped to her knees, clutching the dildo inside her, wave after wave of orgasm wracking her body. She tore the tape from his mouth, and their hard ragged breathing were the only sounds to be heard.