She inspects her work, pulling on the clips, checking the movement in my arms. Seemingly satisfied, she grips my face, not enough to hurt but enough to relay who is running this little freak show. “Keep your hands here,” she instructs, placing my hands on the straps of the harness. “Don’t take your eyes off me, Teddy.”
My throat works in anticipation as she lowers herself to her knees, slowly inching open the towel covering me. Her soft touch is excruciating. I’m bound and completely at her mercy. It sucks and it doesn’t. Literally and figuratively.
Her fingertips dance along my thighs, each touch moving closer to the sweet spot between my legs. With a firm pull, her hands wrap around my ass, centering me to her face.
“Watch me,” she demands as her tongue sweeps out, tasting me.
My dick jerks in her hand but she holds tight, giving me a couple stokes to settle down. A groan slips out unexpectedly when she firms up her grip, sliding my hardened length past her teeth. My knees go weak from the sight of her blonde tresses showering my thighs as her mouth envelops my dick in a hot bath. Her head bobs, her mouth gripping me so tightly that I’m sure I’m seconds from coming down her throat. Something about seeing her on her knees taking me so aggressively causes me to completely lose it and not in a proud way. I pride myself on not being a minute man and Ans here is a couple more sucks from killing my rep.
“Don’t close those eyes,” she demands between pulls of her mouth.
From a cloud of the best blow-job-filled lust ever, I manage to say, “Not a chance.”
She swirls her tongue around the sensitive edge of my swollen tip, applying the most incredible pressure. I try to push myself farther into that sweet mouth of hers and make her take me as far as she can go but between the damn gear and her tight grip on my ass, I am firmly planted against the lockers.
“Don’t be a tease,” I beg breathlessly. Seriously, how long is she going to torture me?
Those crystalline eyes blink up at me, full of fake innocence, before she smiles devilishly. Her hand moves from my ass to the base of my balls and applies the kind of pressure to that perfect little space that can bring a grown man to his knees.
“I’m about to come,” I grunt, “fair warning.” Seriously, I’m about to come like an amateur and by the way her lips are pursed around the pulsing vein, sucking like it’s the most divine dessert to have ever been in her mouth…yeah, I’m about to come all down her throat.
Her tempo increases, the suction too much when she cups my balls in a gentle caress. I come with a roar, unable to hold back any longer. Playing with my balls does it every time. My release, like an explosion, rips from me. It’s hot, creamy spurts, coating Anniston’s sinfully smart mouth. She swallows, her throat beautifully working me until I’m soft. I slump over, only the straps of the harness keeping me upright, just as she predicted. Her lips make a popping noise as she releases me with a satisfied smile.
She moves gracefully to the open locker next to me, and with a wink, she snatches a jockstrap down off the top shelf. My lips curl in disgust. God only knows whose it is. I think it’s either Brody’s or Michaels’ but I can’t read the nameplates the way I’m strapped down.
She pulls a roll of tape from her bag tossed haphazardly on the floor. “Double-sided tape,” she confirms as she begins to line the inside of the cup. I must look confused as shit because she shushes me with a finger to my lips before I can ask a question.
Fine, I’ll just hang out here, completely nude, restrained to a locker in my place of employment. You know, just another day in the life of Theo and Ans. I have to hand it to the girl, though, she’s creative.
When she finishes lining the inside of the cup, she slides the jockstrap back onto the top shelf and turns to me with a shit-eating grin.
“Let’s get you out of Michaels’ harness, yeah?”
My face falls into a frown. “You didn’t?” She restrained me in Michaels’ gear? That is low, even for her.
Her smile is contagious as she assists me in working my arms out of the straps. When she pulls it off, revealing sweat marks, and hangs it in the same locker as the sticky jockey strap, I double over laughing. It’s Michaels’ locker!
“You are the queen.” I bow between bouts of laughter.
She curtsies at my bow and places a kiss to my lips. “I bet he won’t fuck with your stats again.”
This. Girl. Was. Made. For. Me.
I lock her into an embrace and swing her around. “I am going to fuck the shit out of your bad ass,” I promise as I spin us around in the middle of the locker room.
She giggles at my threat. “Come on. You can do me in the car. Let’s get out of here before we’re caught.”
She slaps my ass before tossing me my clothes. I dress quickly, dying to leave and enjoy some much-deserved quality time with Ans.
“Dinner?” I ask as we navigate through the parking lot in search of my car.
“Sure. Mexican?”
We are one bowl into a delicious salsa. The Spanish music seems boisterous inside the tiny restaurant. I’ve never been here before. Brody told me about it and I was waiting until Anniston was visiting before trying it.
I absolutely love when the salsa’s loaded down with cilantro, Anniston not so much, but it hasn’t slowed her down one bit as she talks animatedly about the guys. I’m not paying much attention to what she says. I’m focused on how that slight dent forms when she wants to smile but holds it back. And the way that one piece of hair never stays behind her ear.
“Theo, are you even listening?”
