She pressed her mouth into my neck and whimpered and I felt her pussy clenching. She was coming. I was nowhere near. “You want to stop a minute?” I asked. She shook her head. “No, no. Don’t stop.” I pumped a little faster and she wrapped her slender legs around me and dug her fingers into my ass cheeks. I felt her warm juice soaking my balls. “Yes!” she squealed, as she came again. It must have been two a.m. by then, and I was tiring fast, but I wanted to come. I stopped to catch my breath. She stroked my back and squeezed her legs tighter around my waist. “Did you come?” she asked. She sounded disappointed. “Not yet. Just resting.” “Oh. Okay.” I rested my chin on her bony shoulder. She began stroking my hair. I rose up on my arms and started moving again, easing my cock in and out of her pussy and listening to the wet sounds it made. I felt her tremble as I moved a little faster. Suddenly she stiffened and cried out. It excited me, caused me to pound her harder. She ground her. No mention of what he would do to her. No mention of what to do if she didn't want to play with him or negotiate things. Just commands.But as the week went on, the fantasies in her head ran away with her. Could she maybe live it out? On Friday, she was still torn, so she drove to his neighborhood early and looked at his house. It looked like a nice suburban house, hardly noteworthy. There was no car in the driveway, but there was an attached garage. The lights were on downstairs. As 8 PM approached, she'd decided that she would regret it if she passed up the chance, so at 8 PM on the dot, she walked through his front door.As she walked through it in her mind now, she started to think that maybe following through with the instructions wasn't the smartest idea. She'd set up no limits, no safe words, and no time constraints. She hadn't told him that he couldn't have sex with her, nor even insisted on protection, or even limited it to just him. Nobody knew where she had gone. Her mind.
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