“Do you trust us?” he asks as he approaches the bed. He’s already naked and my pussy throbs in response to his lean, sculpted torso with its covering of fine dark hair.
The sight of his body muddles my mind and I repeat his words dumbly. “Do I trust you?”
He holds out the cloths as if to clarify his question. Taking effort to calm my raging libido, I give consideration to his words. Do I trust these men enough to allow them to do whatever they’d like to do with me in bed? Hell, yes. Yes, please, and thank you.
And I realize I also trust them out of this intimate setting, as well. I trust them to be honest with me. I trust them not to hurt me, though that’s actually down to me not letting myself get hurt. There are no expectations for a relationship, outside of being friends and work associates, and I trust them in that capacity. They treat me with respect, and I suspect I could probably call on them for help if I ever needed to. They’ve already helped my family with the ridiculous amount of gift cards they purchased, and by paying me such a generous salary.
I nod. “Yes, I trust you.”
“Then let’s have some fun.”
18
At their mercy
My pussy’s instantly wet at Ash’s words alone, even as I wonder what I’m agreeing to.
“Lie on your back,” he commands, and I obey, the others making space for me in the middle of the bed.
Ash kneels beside me, his long cock swinging enticingly between his legs. I start to reach for it but he’s got more orders for me.
“Hands together above your head.”
Again, I do as I’m told and he deftly ties my wrists together. I’m surprised he’s not tying me to the bed, but twisting to look, I see that’s because the posts are too far apart on this massive bed.
Because I’m moving around, Ash asks, “Are you alright? It doesn’t hurt, does it?”
“It’s fine.”
“Good, then you shouldn’t mind this either.”
With another bandana folded into a long strip, he covers my eyes and everything goes dark. I instantly miss seeing the men’s gorgeous bodies, but my own body tingles with excitement. This is going to be good.
Ash lays a kiss on my lips. “Don’t move. We’ll be back.”
I hear the men moving away. “Wait. What?”
They chuckle, the bedroom door clicks shut, and then the room is silent.
Well, this isn’t what I expected. Surely, they’ll be right back. Several minutes pass and nothing happens. I get restless, and I could move since my feet aren’t bound, but there’s not much I can do with my hands tied.
I don’t panic, but I do start to wonder if I was crazy to trust them. Where the heck did they go?
I’m naked in the middle of a big bed, hands tied, blindfolded. I’m at their mercy. Are they watching me?
Finally, the door clicks open again. Footsteps enter and pause near the bed. Not sure how many. More than one, but maybe not all four of them.
“It’s about time.”
No one says a word.
Tired of nothing happening, I bend my knees, slide my feet upward and make moves to turn on my side.
Strong hands instantly grip my ankles, pinning my legs flat. Then those hands pull my legs apart, spreading me open. Wetness instantly gathers in my pussy. I’m exposed to them. I don’t know exactly who’s here or who’s watching, but I’m completely exposed. They can do with me what they want.
But still nothing happens.
I lie and wait until I can’t take it anymore. The only thing I hear are occasional faint rustling sounds nearby.
“Hello?” I call out.
A moment later, someone moves onto the mattress with me and a fingertip runs up the length of my leg, ankle to mid-thigh. Not nearly far enough. And then the touch is gone.
The person remains next to me, breathing, but nothing else happens. I wait some more.
“Hello? What’s going on? Are you going to touch me again?”
A fingertip briefly runs up my other leg in a similarly unsatisfying pattern.
I bounce my hips on the bed in frustration. “Please keep touching me.”
A broader touch now – maybe the flat of a palm – slides across my abdomen before retreating. I wait several long moments with nothing.
“Please, please keep touching me.”
The hand returns, fingers dancing between my hips.
“Yes, please. More like that.”
The hand obliges, smoothing over my belly and upward to my breasts. I know who’s touching me now, and I know they want me to beg for more, so I do. It’s the only way I’m going to get what I want.
I keep begging and he keeps touching, tweaking my nipples, tickling delicate areas, teasing, teasing, teasing. When his hands explore my inner thighs, I lay it on thick. “Please touch my pussy. I need your hands on me there.” The hand goes there, fingers sliding through my slick folds. “I want your mouth on my pussy. Please!”