Sunday with a Friend Pt. 01

It had been a typical lazy Sunday. We spent most of the morning a tangle of limbs in bed. Slow make out sessions, hands exploring each other, running across curves, tickling soft skin, delving into warmer parts. Finally hunger won out and we pulled ourselves from the bed, never bothering to dress when it was just the two of us, meaning skin could touch whenever we brush past each other, or we can steal glances whenever we wanted. Or when we were in naughtier moods you had free access to my body whenever you wanted it. Free to grab or slap at my body, bend me over the arm of the sofa or the kitchen counter, force me to my knees or push your fingers or cock deep in my pussy.

We had plans for later that day, dinner and the cinema with your friend, but the afternoon was our own. A small raid of the kitchen revealed nothing for breakfast, let alone lunch. The warmth of the flat was matched by the warmth outside. The decision was made that we should venture out in search of food.

A shared shower and we were getting ready to leave. I moved to pull out a fresh bra and panties to wear under the floaty summer dress I had picked out. But you stood there in my way, a mischievous grin plastered across your face.

"Uh-uh," you said. "Too hot for layers, don't you think." I looked up at you, attempting to judge the seriousness of your _suggestion_. I moved to the side quickly, in an attempt to dodge past you. But you reacted just as quickly, blocking my path again. A raised eyebrow and a hungry look across my chest was the only warning a needed. Holding my ground for another moment, I took a step back resigned. I return to the bed where my dress is laid out. Without a bra the low V of the neckline would be more than a little revealing, and just a soft gust of wind would have the light material flying up to display my bare ass and pussy.

I knew better than arguing with you though, and slipped the dress over my head and followed you out. As we walked down the street towards the promise of food you kept a possessive hand on my waist, whilst my hands alternated between holding down the fabric around my thighs, and pulling up the fabric that pulls tight across my breasts.

You nuzzle into my neck so I can feel your breath on my skin as you whisper, "Leave it."

I can't help but fidget in my clothing one last time, but your none too gentle smack to my arse finally has me drop my hands.

We enter the coffee shop and join the queue. I can feel the energy radiating from you...like this pent up mischievousness bubbling near the surface, and I just know I will end up the target of your energy. I stand in place ahead of you as we scope out the cafe's offerings. Your hand is a steady weight on my hip until I feel it begin to travel south. You run your fingers along the skin at the hem of my dress before slowly curling the fabric in your fist, and slowly but surely lifting the dress. An inch of thigh, another inch. I turn to look at you and find you already peering down at me. Your eyes are set in a determined glare and I know this is a game you will play to the end. How long can I hold out for? Your nails rake across my skin as you pull the dress up further still. I can feel myself begin to shake slightly, I always do when we are out in public like this. Another inch of skin exposed.

I flinch first. Whipping my hand behind me to shoo your hand away. You chuckle slightly, whilst my cheeks redden and we move up our place in the queue. When we reach the counter to place our order you stand directly behind me, blocking me from the other patrons. Your hand begins a slow, torturous glide up my leg again, but this time, instead of bunching the fabric of my dress you let your hand slip underneath it. You know you have my full attention when I shift against your touch, but you don't stop.

Your fingers reach the junction between my legs and slide, your touch light, across my lips. My words falter as I order our food, my body instantly igniting under your touch, and I can't help the way my hips buck back against you. Your solid chest pressed up against my back gives me the peace I need to know that our risky game is between only us, my dignity shielded from everyone else eating and drinking around us. So when I feel you shift your weight and step to the side I gasped, mid word, the waiter looking puzzled as I spun around. Glaring daggers at you, you simply continued to look toward the waiter, a neutral smile gracing your lips. But I could see a fire in your eyes, whilst mine scanned the room hurriedly, searching to see if anyone had seen my dress hiked up and your hand reaching between my legs. A few shocked faces stared back at me: a disapproving mother with a table of kids, a woman red faced and refusing to make eye contact, and then the table that sent a heat between my legs...two guys sat facing our direction, a predatory look on their faces.

I knew immediately that you had seen them, even if you acted as though you hadn't, when you led us across to a table, sitting us both on the side of the table facing them. My body was turned to face you in its usual position, one leg pulled up and bent leaning against you, your hand resting on the bend of my knee.

The length of my dress and lack of underwear meant my ever wetter pussy was only a few centimetres of fabric away from being on display. We talked and laughed, faces inches apart as we waited for food. I was aware though how your hand was slowly crawling its way up my leg. You could feel my body tense as you got closer to the top of my thigh, the anticipation of your touch vibrating through me. Each time, just as I thought I would feel your touch on my most intimate area you pulled your hand back, beginning the teasing journey once again.

I could have moaned aloud when you finally ran your fingers along my slit, barely parting my lips with your finger tips, being careful to avoid my clit. Though under the table, for anyone that chose to look that would have seen your hand beginning to pump as you ran your fingers up and down, dipping them inside me. A sweep of the room and we notice the two men have their attention fixed on us completely.

"We should invite them to join us." You say casually. I stiffen. "Or," you lean in close, so I can feel your breath on my neck, "just show them exactly what kind of a slut you are." And whilst my attention is focused on the words you're saying, you reach your other hand across and lift the hem of my dress, exposing me and your actions to them fully. It was for only a few seconds, but the way their eyes widened and they shifted in their seats they had seen everything. My nipples hardened instantly, sticking out obviously through the thin fabric of my dress. My hand that had been resting against your chest, ran down your torso and I felt your growing hardness under your jeans. I groped at you gently, smiling coyly as you too bucked your hips slightly.

As a waiter came gliding past our table my hand shot out to his arm. My voice breathy with your hand still up my dress I said, "We'll actually take our food to go thanks." He nodded and went to collect our order, as I pressed myself against your side. Your position sitting taller than me gave you an unrestricted view of my chest, and the soft pink flush that was starting to spread across it, my nipples hard peaks in the fabric.

Grabbing our food before it had even touched the table we raced out, one last grab of my ass as we pass the two men sat in silence. I giggled, you slapped my arse, and we continued with a mission to the door. It was only a couple of minutes walk back to the flat and contrary to our closeness at the café, we walked with half a person width between us, the air charged and tingling. I let you unlock the door before slipping in ahead of you. As we went up the stairs a neighbour was making their way down. We moved to single file to let them pass, and once they were level with us I lifted the back of my dress, showing you my bare jiggling ass. Being a few steps below me, put your eyes level with my display.

By the time we reached the door our hands were all over each other, and as we stepped through the door you had begun to remove my dress before it had even swung closed. You pushed me to my knees and my mouth opened instinctively, my mouth soaking wet just thinking about your taste. I took you in my mouth and let my tongue get to work, swirling around the head whilst my lips formed a tight seal, I sucked and swallowed around your cock.

Food forgotten on the side you pull me up and push me towards the bedroom.

"Bed." You growl. I crawl on the bed, staying on my knees, presenting myself to you.

"Yes Sir," I purr as you undressed too. I lick my lips, savouring the taste of you I find there, whilst my hands run along my curves, from my hips across my breasts, pressing them together and rubbing my fingers across my nipples.

You turn away towards the drawers I know contain all levels of excitement. Pulling open the top draw you take out some lengths of rope. "If you can't keep your hands still, I'll make them still." You threaten. Usually that tone would halt me in my tracks, but this time I can't help but continue, a coy smile on my lips. You drop the rope at the foot of the bed whilst you come closer. Your hands reaching out to cup my face you pull me in close, bringing our lips together.

I have always marvelled at the control you are able to maintain when you choose to. My body is hungry for you and there is no way I could contain it, but you keep your actions measured, controlled and precise.

"Did you enjoy that?" you ask as you slip you hand between my lips. I roll my hips against you, looking for friction as you find my pussy already beginning to soak. "You did, didn't you?! You little slut, showing those strangers how desperate your pussy is to be touched." You puncture your words with a twisting on my clit, which causes my back to arch against you.

"Yes Sir."

"Yes what?" you demand.

"My pussy is desperate, I'm desperate, hungry for you, for you to fuck me Sir."

"All I need is your pussy then, surely?" you remark.

I do not know where your mind is heading, but if it results in your cock sheathing itself fully inside me I don't care.

"Uhuh," I moan against your lips. Our tongues clashing together again.

You pull back. "On your stomach." You growl. I pout slightly at having to pull away from your touch but do as I'm told.

Roughly you pull my arms and legs towards the corner of the bed, my knees bent slightly and a pillow under my hips. My ass is high in the arm, my head buried in the bed cover, my pussy on fully, glistening display.

"This is how you are to be fucked then yes? Give that tight little pussy of yours what it needs."

"Please Sir," I whine. Voice muffled my the duvet. As you move around the bed your hand falls and connects with my ass. The sting as you deliver slap after slap makes me gasp, but more importantly I know you will have seen my pussy twitch each time.

Finally you climb onto the bed behind me, and into my warm, wet pussy, you bury your cock. I cry out as my pussy clenches and stretches around you. My hips rocking back to meet you with each thrust. Compared to the morning's slow and sensual sex, this was hard and rough fucking. As though we had spent months apart, no time for romance or intrigue, just a carnal need to fill.

I don't know how long it continued for, your grunts mixing with my moans, the only sounds in the room besides our bodies slamming together. I felt my climax beginning, a heat and pressure in my core bubbling before with a final, deep thrust I felt your own orgasm. You cock throbbing inside me, cum coating my insides. It was all I needed for my body to clamp down around you, milking you of every drop, my clit rubbing against the pillows under me sending further waves of pleasure shooting through me.

Eventually you pull out, your dick softening, whilst my pussy continues to spasm and drip a mix of our juices. You watch my body push another mix of us out, dribbling along my folds. You reach forward, "You do not get to mess up these sheets. Not when I know what a little cumslut you are." I feel your hand cup against my pussy, collecting the cum seeping from my body. You bring your hand up to my face. "Open." I let my mouth fall open, and you shove your fingers inside, grazing the back of my mouth. I thoroughly lick and suck them clean. As I finish my ministrations we hear a knock at the door. Your friend is early.

"Untie me," I say.

You run your hand along my arm as though going for the rope tied at my wrist. Instead you stop. Turning back you simply say, "Don't move."

My body went red hot and ice cold at the same time. Though I knew I was tied down, the room felt as though it was spinning, as though the bed had tilted on its axis. My skin felt as though it was on fire. As I lay there, my bent knees pushing my face into the bed, my shoulders twisting where the wrist ties had been secured so tightly, my ankles surely bearing the marks of the rope wrapped around them, and the two pillows under my hips, pushing my ass high, I realised just how exposing a position I was in. My pussy, no doubt glistening with the wetness I could feel leaving trails down my thighs, was on full display.

Your intention had of course been access, but now I felt the creeping sense of being an object on display. My face barely noticeable this body, this body displayed perfectly for fucking, could have belonged to anyone. It didn't matter that it was me tied there. Your interest had been in the hole permanently on offer to you. I felt my cheeks become flooded with embarrassment as I understood how exposed I was, how vulnerable, how non-existent I was beyond what lay between my legs.

It was then that I heard your footsteps returning to the room. I willed myself to relax. No doubt you had let your friend into the living room and were returning to untie me. Even through my embarrassment I secretly hoped you would tell me to redress without a shower so that, as we sat at dinner, I would feel our juices mixing and drying between my legs, the obvious smell of pure sex hanging around me for the whole evening. You would smile coyly when people walked past me, a hand on my leg or shoulder letting them know exactly who had put me in such a state.

In my head I can picture you leading your friend to the living room, before making excuses to return to me here, release me from my ties. As I listen to the footsteps moving through the flat I release something that sends my heart into overdrive...you left the bedroom door open. I begin to distinguish between your softer, barefoot steps and your friend's shoes on the wooden floor as you move around in the hall. The living room is in the opposite direction to where I am though, so I expect the noises to move away from me. But to my horror, instead of quieting, *both* sets of footsteps were getting louder, moving along the corridor to the wide open door, until they stop dead right outside it.

All I could hear was the blood rushing in my ears, hear every beat of my racing heart. Here I was, legs spread, ass high in the air and in complete view of your friend. Why weren't you doing something. Why weren't you throwing a blanket over me, yelling at him to get out. I try to lift my head to look towards you, but my position barely allows me to raise my head, let alone turn it.Instead I began to hear voices, as though under water.

"This is the one you were talking about?"

"Yeah. That little pussy is always so tight and wet. Ready for a good fucking whenever I demand it. Always wants to please."

"That ass...Those handprints and marks look fresh."

I didn't understand at first. Why were you talking to each other. What was the thing you were talking about. Why weren't you doing anything?!

I jumped and practically screamed when I felt your touch on my raised cheek. Your hand felt red hot on my skin, and I'm sure you would have been able to see my muscles, clenched tight, ripple and spasm as I jerked in shock. You ran your hand along the curves of my ass, tracing the red marks there, taking in how they stood out against the otherwise smooth, tanned skin.

"Mm, this morning. The slut practically begged for it. Begging on her hands and knees whilst worshipping my cock with her little mouth "

It was as though you were discussing a car in a showroom. Your tone neutral, though somewhat proud, like you were showing off to a friend that you could afford the better model but would let him take it for a spin one day. But you weren't talking about a car. 'Slut' you had said. You were talking about a person. But who could you be talking about? Finally my brain caught up with what I was hearing. Me. You were discussing me. Telling your friend about our most intimate acts whilst I was tied down on the bed in front of you both.

Adrenalin surged though my body then and I bucked and struggled. Pulling on the restraints. Twisting and squirming, drawing my body as far from your touch as possible.

I hear a chuckle behind me.

"It's got some fight." My blood boiled rage everytime I heard the word 'it'. How dare he?! But at the same time I could feel my body awakening at how you seemed to speak with pride about me. You wanted your friend to want to use me too. I may be just a fuck toy, but I was yours and part of me wanted to make you look good. Show him how well you had trained me, how willing I was to please you always, how my pussy was yours to use and abuse, and if this was how it was to be used then so be it.

"Yeah it puts up a good struggle every now and again. Makes breaking it even more enjoyable." I could recognise the power and lust in your voice. I couldn't help the fresh wetness it brought to my cunt.

There is a quiet moment. As though someone had pressed paused on the world, and the air held still. I felt you lean forward, your lips against my ear, breath hot and wet.

"Amber. Red. Tell me you remember those words," your hushed voice earnest in tone.

"Mmm," I reply. Nodding into the pillow.

"Tell me," you repeat. Your fingers curling, pressing nails against my soft skin.

"I remember, Sir. Amber, Red," I recite as a tear spills past my lashes. And just like that the world speeds up once more. Your friend being the first to speak.

"These look fresh."

I didn't know what he was referring to until I felt your hand slap down on my ass. The handprints and red marks stinging as fresh as when you had left them on my skin to begin with.

As you spoke your hand moved from tracing the redness on my cheeks, from gripping and shaking my ass, to follow the line of the crease on display. Your fingers ghosted over my folds, and I couldn't help the shudder that ran through my body...my senses so on fire that the smallest touch set me off.

"It'll perform well," your friend remarked at that. Coming forward, he touched me for the first time with a short sharp slap on my raised ass. I gasped as his hand connected with my flesh. I should have realised this was more than show and tell. This was to be a demonstration, and I was the subject, the object to be used, the fuck toy to be tested. At this realisation I couldn't help the tears that sprang to my eyes, couldn't help the half sob that came forth. Was I so little to you, even as just holes to fuck, that you would let any friend come here and use me too?! I felt you lean over me, your jumper clad chest folding over my bare back.

"Shut it. You will not embarrass me you little slut. You will lie here and take whatever we decide you deserve, do you hear me? I don't care what you think you want. I know you want this. I know the slut you try and pretend you're not. I know how you crave cock, fantasise about being covered in the cum of whatever man you're lucky enough will fuck you. I own you, I own your pain and I own your pleasure." You voice was a whisper, but the tone was ice cold. Deadly in its seriousness. And though I wanted to argue I knew what you said was true. I was yours and if this was how you would use your fuck toy this evening then it was my place to take it, to serve your pleasure. And my body ever wanting to obey I felt my pussy twitch as fresh juices ran down my lips.