Bend over Bundle (3 page)

“
We
play by my rules. Are you in or out?”

“
What do you think?” He leered at her insolently, putting his
second hand round her waist, the cigarette dangling from his lip.
She finally smiled, then placed a hand on his stomach and pushed
out of his grasp.

“
Like I said, my rules.”

“
Which are?”

“
You’ll find out as we go along.”

“
You’re lucky I feel like playing, cheeky bitch. So what’s
your name?”

She
didn’t answer immediately, taking another couple of puffs,
evidently savouring the smoke on her tongue. Then she murmured,
“Meleah.”

“
I’m
Mark. So, Meleah...” What an odd name. He hadn’t heard it before.
It had a weird, exotic ring to it. “... How did you get into
cigars?”

“
My
father owns a tobacco plantation.” He had felt a bit left footed up
to that point, uncomfortable despite his attraction, but her words
put new resolve into him: a cigar magnate father was no bad thing
at all, almost as good as a brewery owner. However, his discomfort
didn’t ease enough that he knew what to say to her. He was used to
an almost choreographed mating dance, the female following his
suggestions and hints of how she should behave like a ballroom
dancer obeying the leader’s touches and nudges. This woman...
Meleah. She was different. Almost alien.

She
turned to face him, and placed her hands on his waist, feeling the
firmness of his core muscles under the poncy pink polo shirt he was
masculine enough to pull off.

“
Rugby player. Minor public school, bright, but at pains to
appear non intellectual. Studies... PPE?”

She
took his silence as an admission, and smiled, finally. She had a
gap between her front teeth which he found bizarrely alluring. He
became aware of the beginnings of an erection. She took his hand
and led him down the street, still puffing on that damn cigar. He
followed her, striding as fast as he could to keep up. She was half
a head shorter than him, but she had some speed in those legs. He
racked his brain to see if he could remember her at any of the
Sport Union events, but came up blank. She walked hard and fast,
every so often taking a draw of her cigar. The smoke had a clinging
smell like cedar and old leather.

The
city was built on several levels, with numerous little closes and
stairways. Travelling through one of these unlit and mysterious
corridors could transport one to a different area of the city,
almost magically. It was one of these little nooks into which Mark
was dragged. He started to wrap his arms round her but found
himself pulled into his own lunge, pushed face first up against the
wet rough wall, his arms crossed and pinned behind his back. Her
hips and teeth dug into his arse and neck, her hands reaching under
his shirt, raking through the hair and pinching at his
nipples.

His
first impulse was to push her away— she was strong but he was
stronger— shout abuse at her, shove her... but instead he stayed
against the wall, the smell of her in his nostrils. He heard
squeaks and grunts of excitement, before he realised they came from
him.

Alright, this is unusual. But he was still in control, he
told himself. She was grinding up on his arse, alternating between
teasing nibbles and sharp bites on his neck and ears.

She
stopped suddenly, and continued walking along the alley, leaving
him to follow the sway of her hips and the smoke trail from her
cigar.

They
arrived at her pad on a busy main street, in the commercial
district. Mark knew that such accommodation couldn’t be cheap— an
advantage of the cigar lord father, he supposed. She flicked her
cigar butt away before opening the door and ushering him in. After
climbing up to the top flat, she closed the door behind him, stood
with her back to it and said:

“
I
need a shower. So do you.” He didn’t argue as she took his hand and
led him to a well appointed bathroom, with a bath which looked as
though it could accommodate at least three persons and a separate
shower, the kind with extra jets in the walls.

She
pulled off her singlet, then unbelted and unbuttoned her jeans.
Beneath she wore a black lace bra and thong combination, cut high
on the hips to emphasise her impressive proportions. Mark’s cock
strained against his underwear.

“
Strip.”

He
complied, shocking himself at how easily this came to him. He
pulled off his polo shirt, his tight physique coming into view. He
always managed to burn off the endless pints of strong ale before
they could obscure his eight pack abs. Her lopsided smile and the
infinitesimal widening of her pupils indicated her approval of his
broad shoulders and firm, strong chest. As she scrutinised his
body, and he realised he enjoyed this role reversal. He had a great
body, and he liked showing it off. He teasingly turned his back
while he lowered his jeans, giving her a perfect view of his
buttocks, and muscles rippling along his back. Jeans off, he turned
back, grinning lewdly, expecting her to be ready to beg for the
final reveal. Instead she raised her eyebrows, smiled faintly and
stepped forward, and ran her nail down the midline of his torso,
from the meeting of his clavicles to the trail of hair extending
between his navel and the waistband of his boxer briefs.

“
Very nice.”

“
Do
you want to see the rest?” he replied, pulling down a bra stap with
his finger and kissing the exposed flesh.

“
In
due course.” She leaned forward to kiss him, for the first time.
She began lightly, teasingly, building up the pressure, until she
was darting her sharp little tongue in and out his mouth. She
clasped her hands around his waist and he reciprocated, then slid
his hands down until they were on her bare buttocks. Her warm and
smooth skin smelled and tasted of subtle tones of the fine cigars
her father had gifted her. Though he definitely preferred what her
mother had given her, he reflected as he slipped his fingers under
the tiny string separating her round cheeks, stroking near to, but
not quite touching her arsehole. He adored anal over all other
manners of lovemaking and hoped he would be treated to this
tonight.

She
grabbed the wandering hand firmly by the wrist.

“
Shower first.”

Holding his gaze, she reached behind her back and unclipped
the bra. Her tits took his breath away, even larger than they had
looked in her top and capped with pinkish brown nipples. He reached
out to touch them but she slapped his wrist.

“
Rule one: no touching unless I tell you.”

He
took his hand back, shocked again by how natural it felt to follow
her instruction. She smiled and rewarded his compliance by removing
her thong. Her mound was furred thickly, but trimmed to a
manageable level, a tantalising peek of pink between her outer
lips. She stepped into the shower and turned out the jets. In the
next instant, her body gleamed in the lights, water emphasising
every facet of her body. He noticed that her arms and legs showed
signs of muscle; still femininely soft, but with unignorable
strength.

“
Now
take those off and join me.” She took a bottle of shower gel from a
shelf and poured some into her palms. He pulled down the waistband,
his cock bobbing as it sprang free. Precum flowed freely from its
slit. She reached out and touched a finger to his tip, and put it
to her lips, a string of fluid stretching out between cock and
finger briefly, then breaking. She smiled again, almost
tenderly.

“
How
lovely my plaything tastes.” Was that what he was? Her plaything?
He felt like he’d gotten in too deep, far outside his comfort zone,
but he also felt an irresistible urge to follow her orders— to see
how far this peculiar, terrifying, beautiful woman could take him.
He’d never really been topped before; but now he wondered, in some
corner of his mind that wasn’t under her spell, whether he’d really
been dominating those girls or acting out his fantasies. It was a
thought he’d always suppressed before, but now, as he stepped into
the warm spray, felt her hands lathering up his chest and arms, it
seemed like the most obvious and natural thing in the
world.

“
Turn.” He stood with his back to her, closing his eyes, and
savouring the feeling of the spray on his sweaty skin, and her
hands on his body. He felt her lathering every inch of him; save
those that hung between his legs. She ran her hands on both sides
of one thigh, then the other, allowing the side jets to rinse him
clean. She repeated this process a few times, teasing the sensitive
skin of his inner thighs, until he felt like the merest touch on
his cock would make him explode. Then his eyes shot open as he felt
her fingers trace up the cleft of his buttocks, touching his
arsehole. He stood stock still as she applied more shower gel and
took down the shower head to spray him thoroughly clean there. The
pressure of the water on his opening felt incredible.

“
Ah... fuck...” he moaned, having a dry orgasm from the
stimulating his prostate was receiving from the shower and her
fingers slipping over his perineum.

“
You
came? Good. So responsive...” He didn’t answer, not knowing quite
what to know, or think. He had cum, but still didn’t feel
satisfied, and moreover from attentions to his arse. Sure, he’d
stuck a finger up there the odd time when he had a wank, but
somehow this was different, as though she wanted his primary erotic
focus to shift from his cock to his hole. He tingled, feeling
himself slip a little deeper down the rabbit hole, and then wailed
as she grabbed his achingly sensitive cock with one hand, and
switched off the shower with the other.

He
could hardly not follow her to the bathroom cabinet, from which she
took some fluffy white towels. She wrapped one round her hair, and
handed another to him, which wrapped round his waist. The pressure
didn’t decrease his awareness of how heavy and sensitive he still
felt, but made him feel less like he might jizz all over her at any
moment. She handed him a third towel.

“
Dry
me.” He unfolded the towel, unsure how to start, then decided to go
from top to bottom. He ran the towel around her neck, and patted it
to gently absorb the moisture. Then he moved on to her shoulders,
and gave them the same treatment. Reverently, he covered her
breasts and softly rubbed the towel over them. Though the towel was
new and not rough at all, it still generated friction on her
nipples which she found apparently agreeable, judging by the choked
sounds coming from her throat. He moved down to her hips, wrapping
the towel around her body and rubbing gently, before drying each
leg in turn. Drops of water still clung to her pubic hair, but he
felt shy to touch her there without permission. He looked up,
questioning. She smiled down, and nodded.

“
Yes, you may. But no towel.” He understood immediately and
buried his face in her like a starving dog. She had rinsed away all
her odour, but his lips and tongue and fingers, first stroking her
mound, then parting her lips to allow his tongue to dart between,
made her dew flow again. He moaned at the taste of her, a
concentration of the perfume of her skin, with a muskiness which
made him feel like an animal on a taut, straining leash. He wrapped
his lips round her clit and sucked on it, and slid his fingers
inside her a little. She clenched around his fingers strongly,
those delicious little choked moans revealing how much she enjoyed
and needed this.

“
Stop.” She took him by the cock again and led him out of the
bathroom, into her bedroom.

It
was no ordinary student room. The walls had been painted a deep,
sultry burgundy shade— quite similar to the shade she painted her
lips. The walls were adorned with monochrome images of nudes of
diverse genders, ethnicities and sizes. However, the bed formed the
room’s real centrepiece. A dark four poster, with various bolts and
attachment points. Mark noticed that the carabiners were the real
deal; rated to take forces of up to several kiloNewtons. Beside the
bed, a large, glass fronted cabinet was full of sex toys which
reminded him of one he had seen in Amsterdam. At the time, he was
with his mates and full of fine weed, and had nearly ended himself
laughing. Nude, sober, and in the company of a woman who was
leading him around by the cock, the sight struck quite a different
tenor.

She
followed his eyes and smiled. “We’ll start off small. Lie face
down.” He did so, and she straddled him. She began to stroke his
back, identifying areas of tension and smoothing them with
practiced efficiency.

“
I
want you to breathe deeply. In through your nose... hold... out
through your mouth... hold...” He let her control his breathing,
and felt himself falling into a trance like state. He awareness
extended to her hands stroking his back, her voice guiding his
respiration, and the curious floating sensation he felt. She began
to work down lower, gliding her oiled hands over the muscles of his
tight arse. “Open for me...” she said, and he felt his legs loll
open, not quite under his control. Her finger slid in between his
cheeks, along his hole, circling the aperture and making his cock
stiffen under the weight of his body.

She
moved her finger away, and he glanced back to her her applying
lubricant from a pump bottle to her finger. He gasped as she slid
inside him.