The penthouse doors whisper shut behind us. Floor-to-ceiling glass walls frame the city skyline, diamonds glittering below. Our private realm atop the world. Silk sheets on the king bed gleam under crystal chandeliers. He pours vintage champagne, bubbles sharp on my tongue. His eyes devour my pink negligee, thighs bare, hinting more. I kneel on the bed, heart racing. He found my secret—the pink buzzing bee toy, straps tucked by the bed. Tonight, he claims it. And me.
“Kneel. Eyes forward.” His voice, velvet command. Black silk scarf blinds me. Darkness amplifies every breath. His hands roam over silk, tracing belly, hips. Fabric hikes up. Fingers slip under, skin fever-hot. Negligee lifts away. Naked, exposed, I wait. He sheds his shirt. Bare chests brush—electric shiver. “Arch. Chest out. Hands to nape. Thighs spread.” I obey, slow, perfect. Fingers tease neck, lips. Mouth parts reluctant. Hands glide thighs, ass cheeks. Inner thighs part. Finger grazes wet folds. Sigh escapes. He tastes me on my lips. Mutual intoxication.
The Privilege
“Your body is mine tonight. Trust me?” “Yes.” Ass lifts from heels. Rip of packaging, velcro snaps. Wrist cuffs—soft-lined nylon straps, mountaineering tough. Ankles next. Guided forward, head on down pillow. Doggy pose. “CambrĂ©. Offered.” I arch deep. Ankles linked tight. Balance wobbles blind. Arms behind, cuffs join. Ankles to wrists—hogtied exquisite. Ass on heels, feet up. Hands near cheeks. Chest thrusts forward. Bound beauty in mirrors unseen.
His palms conquer every inch. Sensitivity spikes. Nipples harden. Belly quivers. Hand dives rear—ass crack exposed. Shiver at rosebud graze. Finger finds soaked pussy, entry teased. Held back. “Want my touch?” “Mmm, yes.” “What’s in the bedside box?” Silence. Fingers circle outer lips. “A… sex toy.” “Naughty slut?” “Yes.” “Like this? Your toy?” “Yes… but too fast.” “You’ll use it for me. Or call.” “Yes.” “Want it now?” “No, your hands…” “Describe.” “You caress my pussy.” “Bound open. You love it.” “Yes. Tied open for you. Your little slut.”
Kiss seals it. Bee toy trails skin—cold silicone, then buzz. Nipples spark. Straps cinch: waist, thighs. Bee nests at entrance. Hips grind instinctive. Side-roll to back. Arms pinned under. Legs splay wide—pudic instinct crushed by bonds. He parts further. Fingers tease creases. Heat radiates. Movements tease bee’s kiss. Buzz ignites—gasp, writhe. He pulls away. I chase, hips bucking animal. Hand wedges toy-flesh. Vibes pulse through him. Climax crashes—waves, screams muffled.
The Excess
Buzz lingers. Clit screams post-orgasm. Thighs clamp futile. “Stop, please.” Mercy granted. Straps off, blindfold gone. “Perfect slut.” Blush, “Thank you.” Toy to lips—musk shared. Kisses deepen. Tongue trails neck, breasts, navel. Circles clit—gasp, squirm bound. He kneels by shoulder. Mouth seeks cock, tongue swirls.
Missionary twisted by ties. Knees between thighs. Glide in—wet, gripping. Secret muscle milks. Sigh deepens to orgasm, electric pulses. He withdraws. Strokes spill hot on belly. Finger scoops, tastes. Kiss seals complicity.
Glass walls shield our secret. City sleeps below. Champagne refills. Bodies entwine in afterglow. Elite discretion. Ours alone.
