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Under the Boardwalk It was warm earlier, but the air feels cool now. Or perhaps it is my nakedness and stillness that are making it feel that way. I shift a little and the roughness of the rope against the now raw skin of my wrists and my neck makes wince and be still again. The breeze coming off the sea smells of summer and i think back my excitement at the prospect of a whole evening with you. I suppose it was a whole evening in the end; it's really night time now. I remember the warmth of your hand as it took mine, the surprising lightness of your touch as you placed the other against the small of my bac 'Come on' you said, 'let's go down the sea.' I grew up by the sea and I've always loved it late at night. I felt so daring telling you about my teenage fumblings under the pier after dar You smiled indulgently and gestured an inlet along the beach a little. 'I've fucked quite a few girls there,' you told , 'their faces pressed into the sand.' I giggled, 'but that's not where you're taking ?' I said. 'No, that is not where I am taking you.' The oldest part of the pier is quite secluded. I thought maybe we would go there for a little privacy, so I was surprised when you stopped by a pillar quite far out, but clearly visible from the promenade. Surprise turned to some unease when you pulled a coil of rope from your backpac '... are you...' I didn't even know what I was asking. Are you sure, I suppose. Do you really mean do this here? But then you gave one of those looks. Yes, silly girl, it said, I am sure. I would have done anything for you then. I still would I suppose, although whether I'll get the chance now isn't clear. I squirm against the ropes again in the vain hope that they will loosen, but of course they don't. It was exciting and hypnotic watching you draw them between your hands, calmly and surely using different lengths secure first my wrists the cross beam above , stretching my arms up and behind , then my waist, pulling into a bend, putting my head and hips level, leaving balancing on my toes, until you placed the final coil of rope around my neck, just a little too tightly to be comfortable. Your fingers and then your cock against my lips helped calm . I opened my mouth hungrily for you and you slid into my throat in a single long smooth movement. I was so needy for you, but unprepared for the sudden pressure of the tip of your cock against the back of my throat. You chuckled quietly at my spluttered gasps, and waited until my gag reflex accepted you before pulling back and slamming into my mouth causing the whole process to begin again. I lick my lips at the memory of the smell of you, almost imagining I can taste your cum on my tongue. You didn't cum in my mouth though, so this is just my imagination. Instead, you withdrew, leaving me bereft and off balance, choking myself further on the rope around my nec I felt afraid when you disappeared behind , but the sound of your belt sliding free of its loops was unmistakable. Knowing the first blow was coming did nothing make it less of a shoc Hearing my own cry made suddenly afraid we would be discovered, and so, as you rained blows on my bare arse and thighs, I strove be quiet. This, I suppose was dissatisfying for you. When you switched instead beating my cunt with the stiff leather, I lost all ability control my sobbing. I remember begging, increasingly incoherently, for you stop. I don't recall if you replied at all, other than to ignore , which is a response of sorts, I suppose. I grimace now at the soreness and the sting of the cool air on my wounds. The blood has long since dried, but each movement reopens my cuts a little, and the sea air with the salt it carries draws the pain out, even now, hours later. A trickle of blood runs down the back of my leg, and I feel my face burn in memory of your fingers shoving roughly into my cunt. 'You're so fucking wet. I can't believe this shit gets you off.' The sneer in your voice hurt me far more deeply than the belt. I tried to protest, to claim otherwise, but it sounded hollow even to my ears. All pretence at being quiet was entirely abandoned when, using only the wetness from my treacherous cunt, you slammed your cock deep into my arse. The slapping of your body against mine and my screams echoed together under the pier, making the beach into a sonic torture chamber. Each time you drew back I felt a confusing mixture of relief and loss, both overwhelmed with pain when you buried your cock inside me once more. With a final grunt you came. The last I remember of you is your disdainful sneer, 'Fucking pathetic' as you withdrew. Even now there is a part of me that imagines you will return, but I know you won't. You turned and walked away, leaving me tied here, naked and alone, before your cum even began trickling down my legs. In the hours since that moment, I have tortured myself wondering why you left me here. Wondering what I did that so displeased you. Wondering if maybe you haven't really abandoned me. Maybe this is a test. Or a game. Maybe you are watching me from the promenade, enjoying my distress. But really I know that you are gone. I wonder in passing what happened to the girls you fucked in the cove you pointed out earlier. Did you leave them here too? Or was one of them waiting for you at home when you left me here? things happen almost simultaneously interrupt my agonising recall of the events that led be trapped here, naked under this pier, in the very early morning. I feel water splash against my toes, and, at the exact same moment, I hear the unmistakable voice of a teenage boy calling to his friends. |
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F, unfortunately
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he shouldn't leave you there : )
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5/31/2020 10:36 am |
Nice well written erotic
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now would I be watching you as the sea rose around you waiting to "rescue" you or did I send the boy and his friends to enjoy your body too or have you finally discovered what happened to the other girls I took to the beach ? PSUK " Its better to burn out than fade away "
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