Hansel 3(15)

He never really called me Gretel—even now, it takes me to a dark place—but I called him Hansel. The twisted fairy tale names are ours, and so it turns me on to be called Gretel.

I swirl my tongue around him as my tongue explores. Then I pull away, tickling over the smooth skin with my lips. “You’re Hansel to me.”

I can feel the truth of it as he shifts his hips out from underneath me, reaches up and grabs me underneath the arms, and tosses me down on the bed. He crawls up my legs and settles himself atop my hips, and then he turns me over, so my ass is in the air and his mouth is slamming, warm and damp and sucking, over it.

The onslaught is so shocking, so erotic, I scream.

Fingers thrust into my pussy as his tongue laps at my puckered hole. He stuffs another finger into me and I rock forward and backward on my hands and knees. His tongue slips inside my asshole, and my arms give out. My face presses into the pillows.

“I don’t want to hear a word of protest, Gretel. You came here on your own, knowing everything you know; you’re mine and I will treat you how I will.” He shoves his fingers deeper into me. I gasp, then let out a groan as the tip of his tongue bathes my most forbidden hot spot.

“Hansel!”

“Gretel,” he murmurs.

He grabs me by the knee and urges me onto my back again. He spreads my knees and sinks down in between them, his dick so long and heavy that it almost touches my pussy. I lift my hips and try to thrust against it as he fills me with his fingers.

His mouth claims my nipple, biting while his fingers fuck me. His thumb smooths up to trail moisture over my clit.

“Yes,” I cry. I grasp his hair and tug.

His hand snatches mine away from him and pins it on the bed.

“My way,” he growls.

His fingers thrust once more and then he pulls them out and snatches the sheet to his chest. His dick stands straight up, his balls bounce as he ties one end to the nearest bed post and then twists the rest of it into a long rope, with which he binds my wrists.

Tightly.

I gasp at the tight knot he gets around my hands.

“I can’t move,” I squeak.

“That’s the idea.” His voice is low down in his throat. He’s got one knee on each side of my body, and he starts to rock his way up, toward my mouth. And even though I said I’d let him be in charge, I can feel his intention. I know he’s bringing me his cock to suck, and I open my mouth because I want it.

With a soft grunt, he slides his round, wet head between my lips and pushes deep into my throat.

At first, I almost gag. He’s long and thick, and even as I swallow to accommodate him, it seems like there is always just a little more. His head is big and plump. I swallow hard against it and he makes a throaty sound that makes me want to take him all.

I tighten my mouth around the base of him and let my tongue roll circles around him as he rocks his hips, pushing in, then pulling out a little, pushing in, then gliding out.

I suction with my cheeks, and I can feel his legs tremble. “Leah…”

His big hands are grabbing up my hair. Gathering it inside his palms and squeezing as he fucks my throat.

I’m finding that it’s all about rhythm; restraint. Open wide and swallow; breathe around it. Take it slow. I chant inside my head until I find my flow, and then it’s suddenly a little easier. Which is good, because even if it wasn’t, there’s no way in the world that I would stop. He’s losing it.

“Leah…” I can feel his deep breaths; hear them, too. He thrusts deeper, faster, and I suck him hard, making sure it’s just my smooth, warm cheeks melding around him; making sure that every time he seems too big, too much, I keep my cool and swallow gently, stroking his smooth head with my throat.

He’s thrusting wildly now, tugging my hair until that’s not enough anymore and one of his hands clutches my head, pressing me against him as he shoves his huge erection down my throat. I realize the warm weight against my chin is his balls, and I feel damp and aching in between my legs. I want to touch him there. As if he hears my thoughts, he lifts his hips a little, pressing his head against the back of my throat and shifting his sac against my chin.

“Oh god,” I murmur to his cock. I’m wet. So wet! I need to come. I need his cock or fingers inside.

He’s panting loudly now, and thrusting fast. “Leah,” he groans. “Suck me, Leah. Just like that.”

I guess I’m doing it right, because a second later, I can taste a hint of him. His dick swells, pumped up twice its size in just that moment. He breathes an exultant curse and then explodes inside my throat.

I swallow convulsively, and then it’s over. He’s gone stock still, leaning over me. His hand is still clutching my head. And there’s this crazy second where he’s resting there astride my face, with his cock inside my mouth, and the taste of him on my tongue, and I’m panting out my nose, my arms stretched out over my head, my nipples hardened in the chilly air. It feels perfect.