Popular Tennis Videos
The self-serving deed may become a fool's errand.
Somehow I doubted that. People rarely enjoyed anything when trussed up against their wills with their cheeks being crushed into cheap Berber carpet. At least, the people that I socialized with anyway. She moved slightly and took the pressure off my legs then grabbed my shoulder and yanked me over onto my back. I was looking up at her, but because the room was dark and the open door was behind her, I couldn't make out her face. I could, however make out the item she held in her hand. It was a retractable knife, one of those bright pink ones that deranged secretaries order from office supply catalogues, but never use. Well, this deranged secretary had found a use for it which she emphasized by waggling it in an attempt to be menacing. Well, let's face it, given my predicament, it certainly was menacing, regardless of how competent she was at wielding it.
She reached down and unbuttoned the top of my pants and pulled my zipper down. My heart thudded alarmingly. The sudden juxtaposition of that knife and the area in which her other hand was working shoved a disturbing image into my panicky mind.
"Let's just see what we have here, shall we?" she hissed. I was in full lathering panic at this point. When she yanked my pants and shorts down, I think she was a bit disappointed that I wasn't hard. I don't know what she expected, but she obviously thought that binding a man up and swinging a blade around would be undeniably arousing.
She began to ridicule me and insult my manliness. Under the circumstances, I felt it better to just nod and agree with her. She spun around and before I could react, she had zip tied my ankles together as well. I threw my head back in frustration, banging it quite sharply on the floor. She turned back around and looked down at me.
"You want to keep me happy, don't you?" she asked. When I didn't respond, she repeated the question only louder and with more menace. I nodded. "Good. I got a way you can keep Kimmy happy."
It seems to me that when people begin to refer to themselves in third person, it is a clear indication of mental instability. Of course, it seems to me that when people tie unsuspecting consultants up, threaten them with sharp office supplies and pull their pants down, that is also a clear indication of mental instability.
It began to dawn on me what Kimmy wanted me to do to keep her happy. She hiked her skirt up over her thighs and then up to her waist. She was completely naked beneath her dress, her pubic hair was much darker than the hair on her head. She shuffled herself up until she was hovering over my head. Her pussy was just inches above my face. She reached down and slipped one hand beneath my head, it was the hand with the knife and I felt the plastic handle against my ear. The other hand tucked her skirt into it's waistband and then reached down and pulled her pussy lips apart. She was very wet, her inner labia were shimmering with moisture.
"Now," she said in a growling voice, "make Kimmy cum." And with that she lowered herself onto my face. Obediently I let my tongue dart into her slit. I don't know if it ever even entered my mind to resist or not comply. Suddenly I felt myself being swept up in the moment, and the actual circumstances became more blurred.
As my tongue touched her she let out a low long purr.