“Did you remember to pick up my coat from the dry cleaners?” my girlfriend, Annette, asked as she briskly walked into the room?
I didn’t even hear her come in as I was playing an old Counterstrike game when I should have been doing a collage assignment. I told her this morning that I would be finishing it that afternoon.
“For fuck’s sake, Cliff, you forgot, didn’t you”? she asked, looking annoyed as hell.
“Is that the time?” I asked, looking at my watch, already going into my whole ‘pretend I forgot’ routine.
“Don’t even”, she said, disappearing into the kitchen. It is going to be one of those afternoons, I thought.
I was wrong.
I was going to get up and follow her into the bedroom and try and worm my way back into her good books again, but I saw a chance to take out a bad guy on the roof of a factory. I hate campers with sniper rifles.
Just as I was about to take the shot I felt a sharp pain in my left wrist followed by a metallic raspy click. A split second later there was another click. I looked up in astonishment – Annette had snapped a pair of handcuffs onto my left hand and had cuffed me to the arm of the couch. To make matters worse, the sniper then shot me in the head. Fucking camper!
I awkwardly put the computer laptop down on the coffee table with one hand. Well, this was a new one, I thought looking at my imprisoned wrist. I then took a closer look. These were no cheap and flimsy sexshop handcuffs – these were something like police issue.
Annette sat on the coffee table across from the couch facing me. She removed the scrunchy from her ponytail freeing her hair in one liberating movement. She looked blankly directly into my eyes, which was a bit unnerving I must say.
“You are lazy, Cliff. And I’m sick of your lazy ways”, she said as she unzipped her dress at the back in that weird magic way that girls can do effortlessly. Must be bra practice, I thought forgetting my predicament. If a guy tried to do something like that he would dislocate a shoulder. She never removed the dress, it just peeled slightly open at the back with the zip down to the waist.
“Really, Annette?” I asked, jiggling the handcuffs on my left arm.
“Really!”, she answered. “You like sitting in that damn couch you might as well have a proper sit”, she said tartly. At that she got up and left the room. Two minutes later I could hear the shower running. I didn’t quite know what to make of it all.
Forty minutes later I could make even less out of it and I was getting angry. I had learnt that if I didn’t move on the couch, even a little bit, there would be no sharp pain on my left wrist. If I tried to stand up, or try to drag the couch, the sharp edges of the handcuffs dug deeply into my skin and bone. Where the fuck did she find these things, I thought?
After another ten minutes Annette came back into the lounge room and resumed her seat on the coffee table. She was wearing a fetching blue/grey floral dressing gown and apparently nothing else. Her long brunette hair was still damp from the shower.
She sat in silence as I angrily told her off. She sat in silence as I pleaded with her and she sat in silence as I tried to reason with her. Essentially, she sat in silence throughout my many speeches. I considered yelling at the top of my lungs for help, but I sensed that she would let me and allow whatever rescuers in the apartment to witness my humiliation. No way, that wasn’t going to happen, I thought.
I decided to try another tack. Also, my bladder was really starting to get my attention for real.
“Honey, what is it? Tell me how to make it all better. This thing is killing me (indicating the handcuffs). Also I need to pee pretty badly. Please Netty?”, I begged.
Annette stood up suddenly and I caught the briefest of glimpses of a nude and pale bum cheek as her dressing gown flipped open slightly as she stormed away. I heard rumbling in the kitchen and she returned with a plastic yellow bucket that she must have grabbed from under the kitchen counter.
“Use that”, she said, handing me the container.
“For real”, I asked?
As she just stood there with her arms crossed, I decided to call her bluff.
“Ok”, I said, “we’ll play it your way”.
I fumbled my zip down with my free hand, hunched and chained to the arm of the couch as I was, and maneuverered my cock out of my pants. I then pissed into the yellow plastic bucket like a horse would, I guess, if said horse was handcuffed to a living room couch. I love this girl, but every so often she does strange shit like this and it makes life very interesting. I shook the last drops of my knob and tucked myself away again. Annette took the bucket into the toilet and flushed. She returned to the lounge and I resumed my seat.
She sat herself on the coffee table and spoke for the next 10 minutes and I never said a freaking word. In a nutshell, I was a lazy and undeserving slob. Every time I slackened off like that it disrespected her. She was furious, and apparently had been furious for some time now. The only way she could get my attention was to force the issue. She asked me if we should split. I got upset at that, and although I would deny it anywhere else, I got a bit teary and begged her forgiveness. I really was an asshole, I began to realise.
She talked herself out, and I felt miserable and realised that it had little to do with the handcuffs. The thought of her leaving me made me feel terrible. I was about to say that I was sorry when I discovered that I could just look up her dressing gown and her legs were spread ever so slightly. I also began to suspect that Annette might have known this fact. Was it true, I pondered whilst catching glimpses of her neat little bush? Was I upskirting her, or was she upskirting me?
One clue was that whenever my girl got aroused her eyes narrowed. It was ever thus. Whenever I noticed this in the past I started getting turned on myself. And there she sat, and her eyes were indeed narrowing and she had stopped talking. I could see up her gown even more now, and I began to get hard. The whole helpless thing started to do a number on me as well. Now that I think about it, having her force me into peeing into a bucket was also turning dials on in my head. For the first time I looked at the handcuffs differently.
“Cliff, are you looking at my vagina?”, she asked.
Somehow the way she said ‘vagina’ at that point sounded dirtier than ‘pussy’.
I didn’t answer, I just kept looking.
She continued to sit in front of me, but slowly opened her knees to give me a view of heaven. How can I describe the view that I knew so well? Her legs were her best feature, and this creature was not short of best features. Her legs were long and tantalizing, and my vision was captivated by her beautiful crotch at the apex of those legs. In her intimate grooming she preferred to shave, but had not done so in a couple of days and so I could see the little black dots of new growth along the shave lines. As she opened wider, the delicate folds of her labia peeled open and I noticed that she was glistening. My Annette was getting wet under my intense gaze and my cock began to feel as imprisoned under my jeans as my left wrist was inside the handcuffs.
Annette, smiled and loosened the dressing gown and I would see all of her at that moment. I took in her pale skin, her rounded b-cup breasts, her tight little tummy, and her inviting open vulva. I just sat there in dumb, trapped, amazement.
Ever so slowly, Annette, slipped her middle finger along her dampening slit and began making long strokes along the entire length of it in a rhythm that I found impossible to look away. She looked into my eyes whilst her own got narrower and narrower. Her breathing became irregular as if she was forgetting how it was properly done. Her little tits heaved as she moved her whole body into her fingers. My cock was straining painfully inside my pants. I made a motion for her to come towards me, but she refused. She just kept on the steady path towards solo pleasure as if I wasn’t there – except for the eye contact. She was grooving on my helpfulness; it was making her cunt slick and wet. Her fingers sometimes disappeared completely from view. I could tell she was getting close.
Annette stood up her gown hanging open and her fingers continued to work and her slick pussy. I could see her trimmed pubic hair quite smeared and wet with her juices.
Without another word, she took my one free hand in her own and gripped it tightly. She stood up on the couch straddling me and pushed her lovely open cunt onto my face almost enveloping it – or that’s how it felt at the time. She was rubbing my face deeply against her hungry vagina and my tongue was lapping at her scent; delving deep inside her body. She lasted almost another thirty seconds, which was not a bad effort. At that point she was riding my face with her cunt and I was fearful that she might topple forward, possibly breaking my neck in the process. But no, the point of her knees dug into the couch at either side of my face and my tongue buried deep inside her body. At last she came. Each spasm was another hard grind of her clitoris against my nose and another tongue dart inside her pussy. She moved slower and with less force as her orgasm subsided until she was spent and unable to support the odd position any longer.
She slumped down and squatted between my legs and roughly yanked down my jeans and underwear. My cock sprang free for the first time and Annette sunk her hot mouth down my dribbling slick shaft.
I would like to report that she rode my cock with her mouth for ten minutes like that but it would not be true. After about ten seconds of her warm action on my swollen cock, I exploded thick jets of warm cum into her mouth and down her throat. Some semen escaped the confines of her lips and it dribbled at the corners of her mouth. I convulsed with every spurt into her and at last I too was spent.
Annette crawled up my body and we enjoyed a long kiss together. I could taste my juices on her lips, and she could taste hers on mine. And, in that hot sweaty tangle of ours I could feel the burning hot pain of my left wrist, and see for the first time the prickles of blood circling my skin.
And, I didn’t give a damn.
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/56ff7x/the_argument_mf_bd_oral_fdom