My GF; Fucking & How We Met Ch. 02

She stalks back over to the bound woman and bends near her hooded head. She must be saying something disturbing, because the brown eyes go wide and cuffed limbs yank instinctively at their bonds. She doesn't drop her safety object though. Teeg closes the blindfold.

She fills a plastic cup halfway with the caramel and drips it on the bound woman. It causes her to judder and wince. She lurches away from the hot liquid when it hits her, which – unsurprisingly – causes the weights to bounce and pull cuttingly on her nipples, labia, and clit.

Teeg soon tires of this stage as well and returns the cup. Then she dunks about 7/8ths of her strapon into the hot caramel. She trots back to the lower end of the bound woman before it can cool.

Teeg deliberately detaches the labia and clit clamps in rapid succession. Then – with no other preamble – Teeg drives the hot caramel-coated strapon into the bound woman as the blood rushes back into her clit and labia and they're at their most sensitive and painful. How the bound woman not only likes it, but has the presence of mind to clutch her safety object as her whole body locks in a girder of exquisite gratification, is beyond me.

Teeg's banging away, but~~~ it looks like the traffic is proceeding again (albeit at a snail's pace) and she can go for quite a while. I'll send it to download to my home computer and watch the rest later.

I don't get why some people enjoy pain and degradation, but I do like to accommodate. Maybe not so much the pain part. Well, there was the night I met my girlfriend.

I'll tell you about it while I fight my road rage.

^^^^^^^^^^^^

Nic grinned like a jackass, pointing and laughing at me when I walked back into Cherry Girls' Bar.

"1am and trolling here again. White Knight never gets laaaaaaaaaaid."

I told Nic to go fuck herself after she brought my Jamesons and ginger ale. Somehow it was less embarrassing to let Nic think that I'd made a pass and failed than to tell her that I had chose not to sleep with the girl, even when she legitimately and literally asked for it. I found it tremendously disconcerting myself. I'd rejected a captivating prospect – ready and willing – because of effective moral reservations. Did I actually tell that delicious girl that I wouldn't fuck her, but she could call me for a date in a couple days? Why? The Icebox doesn't get crushes, right?

I decided that I just needed to get my head right. Some uncomplicated, unscrupulous anonymous sex and I'd be right as rain. Just then Garfunkel and Oates' "This Party Took a Turn for the Douche" came on. Little on the nose, but excellent advice. Now to find the biggest ho in this room.

~~~It wasn't a long search. The skank at the end of the bar looked perfect. She had large fake boobs and ass cheeks visible below her six-inch purple cheetah print micromini. (Her five-inch heels were the classier regular cheetah print.) She was wearing purple eye shadow and lipstick to match, but pink saloon nails that matched nothing. Her shirt was a midriff-baring button-up tank that showed her tramp stamp and both her naval and nipple rings. (I rightly guessed that her tongue was also pierced, both tip and stud.) Pretty face, except a long pointed nose and chin, which I liked. Two inch leather dog collar, which I could like, but wasn't sure about. Excellent, I wouldn't even have to bother with the pretense of a seduction.

She finished her frou-frou drink in a gulp when I got to her eyes. I continued to stare. She stood from her stool and thrust out her chest, I suppose on the off-chance that I hadn't noticed them or didn't fully appreciate them. I kept staring until she gave up and ordered herself another.

I winked and walked off.

I came up directly behind her from the crowd, bringing my arm around her to play with her naval ring while I jammed my strapon against the crack of her ass through her skirt and squeezed her against the bar.

I shot her drink. Curiously, nothing throws a pretty girl off like taking her drink.

"Do you always drink weak garbage? You'd better be able to take something stronger." I spoke directly into her ear. I also started tugging her nipple ring.

"I *breath* can *breath* take stronger."

"Then order." I was virtually milking her with both hands and rolling my hips into her ass.

"What...what should aahhh-I order?"

"Damn. You're lucky you have a nice rack, huh? Order a strong drink." I eased up briefly so she could order.

"I want a strong drink, please?"

Nic handled the order without speaking. Her eyes couldn't not twinkle though. I knew it was a shot of Everclear and Absinthe in Five Hour Energy, with enough sugar to cover all three. Purple Cheetah took a sip.

"You'd better fucking swallow it and keep it down."

"It's so gross." She finished it.

"Really? You're gonna whine like a bitch about it? Fucking order another."

Nic put another in front of her. Purple Cheetah downed this one like a trooper.

"That one better?"

"Yeshss." I'm sure she can't think straight between the teasing and the alcohol, but she's not sufficiently wobbly.

"Order another."

"hWhy?"

I found her unprotected labia piercings and gave an exploratory jerk.

"Because it's what I want, bitch." She shakily ordered again. I got back to her nipple piercings.

Nic waited after the last shot, so I knew that was the fill line.

"Pay your tab." She drew out a Mastercard. I took hold of her labia piercings again and rasped them in concert. Purple Cheetah dropped her card and made picking it back up look like an Olympic event; Tipsy Slut Squats in Fuck-Me Heels. Eventually, she figured out paying.

Nic returned her card and hands me a Creamy Bush (not being ironic, most of the cocktails are themed), then loudly announced that she was done bartending for the night and would be back at close out. Just like I knew what was in the shots, I knew Nic was going to her office to watch the CCTV of the booths.

I led Purple Cheetah to my booth at the back of the bar. There was some zigzagging through the crowd to get there, but I had her by her nipple ring and there was no fear of my letting go. I was definitely enjoying the hardware.

I sat and waited for her to err by attempting to sit down next to me. I slapped her ass, fairly hard.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"Sitting down-"

"Slut, you know what you're here for. Get under the table."

She smiled as a basket of chips and slipped under the table.

I scooted deep into the booth. With a practiced motion, I lowered my jeans around my knees and partially detached my strapon. She crawled to me and I lifted my legs over her shoulders. I crossed my ankles and encased her head tightly between my thighs.

I sipped my drink and enjoyed her work, Halestorm's "Mz Hyde" playing in the background. I quickly realized that Purple Cheetah had no idea what the hell she was doing, however - as buzzed and hot as I was – a tongue in my snatch couldn't help but feel good. Even if it was by accident rather than design, her swirling tongue piercings were building me haphazardly toward orgasm.

Last call came pretty quick though and I wanted to finish. I killed my drink and got a good handhold on her hair.

"Stick out your tongue and stiffen it." She didn't respond immediately, so I squeezed off her air supply for a few seconds until I had her attention. I repeated myself and she complied.

I decided to help her out at first, because it is awkward to hold. Using my cunt muscles, I clinched her tongue in place as I mashed my pussy on her face. She tried reflexively to pull her tongue loose to no avail. The staccato arhythmic results of her wriggling warm wet tongue - both the tip piercing and barbell - were marvelous; far better than her deliberate efforts.

Almost immediately, her tongue was fixed and hard. I pistoned up her face over and over, using her long pointed nose to stimulate my clit. Between my "creamy bush" and her saliva, the motion was smooth and swiftly sliding. I ground into face as hard and fast as I could from a sitting position, enjoying the penetration of flesh and metal. Her head stayed secure in the vice grip of my thighs with only my grip on her hair shifting her in cadence to my grinding to produce maximum friction.

I felt myself getting close and knew I would ejaculate. Spreading my thighs slightly, I pulled her head away from my pussy. Fuck, she was going to look good with a facial.

Her look of shock when I sprayed her was priceless.

Not that one orgasm stopped me. I'd just got back to rocking on her tongue when the bar began closing and patrons were being ushered out into the world. Irritated, I redressed and grabbed Purple Cheetah's collar to drag her out from under the table. Evidently, I did like it.

"C'mon, we'll take my car."

"Wait, I need to clean up first."

"Why bother? Everyone here already knows that you're a whore. Besides, I'm not done using your face yet..."

Readers: Tried to acknowledge comments and use direction. Open to more and suggestions. Writing may be slow, because I have a fairly demanding day job.