Gallery Pt. 01

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Is it wrong to delight in someone else’s suffering? Is the answer less important than if I actually care? Something to consider at a later date perhaps.

Two absent-minded taps on my phone and I look over to see you biting the collar of your jacket to stop you making any sounds and furiously squeezing your thighs together.

I wonder if anyone has noticed this game we are playing yet? For all of their fantastic qualities, it’s not like these remote vibes are whisper quiet – and the gallery is almost dead silent but for the shuffling of feet and throat clearing of the fellow patrons.

I meet your gaze as I tap the screen again. You’re prepared for the first two, but those that follow catch you by surprised. I increase the speed, the rhythm, the furosity until I get what I want. A true, loud moan. We’re the only ones in this room, but anyone next door could have heard it.

Finally you’ve broken. I close the space between us, whispering in your ear. My breath hot on your neck.

“What did I tell you?”

“Not a sound”

“That’s right.”

My hand wraps around your throat.

“And you know what that means?”

I tighten my hand.

“You turn it up.”

“That’s right.”

I slide my other hand down your body, lifting your skirt and sliding my hand into your underwear.

“You’re already soaked,” I whisper as I slip my middle finger along your glistening pussy lips. “There is no way this ends well for you.”

I pull away from you, and lift your skirt from behind. The loud smack echoing through the space.

“Take them off.”

You look at me over your shoulder and bend forward, peeling your underwear down your legs and handing them to me.

I breathe your scent deeply. “I’d hate to need to gag you with these.”

That’s a lie. I’d love to. And you’d love me to. Which is why I’m not going to. One tap and the pleasure courses through your body again. Every inch of your body fighting the urge to scream.

“Good girl.”

We move through the gallery. Sometimes pausing to look at the art. Discussing it as if beads of wetness aren’t dripping down your thighs. A group of tourists is the perfect, unwitting audience for your exhausting attempts to maintain your dignity.

“You’re doing so well,” I whisper into your ear.

A quiet stairwell is the perfect location for the next move in this escalating game. In a smooth motion, I grab you and push you against the wall.

A deep kiss turns into instruction. “Close your eyes and open your mouth. Now.”

You escort bursa oblige. It would be foolish not to.

I can tell the cold metal catches you off guard. You reach up to pull the buttplug from your mouth and look at the sparkling gem glinting back at you.

“Put it in. Right here”

Footsteps from the stairs above break the spell of sexual energy, and a friendly smile at the older couple coming down feels miles away from the cold metal in your hand.

“I said ‘put it in.’ Don’t make me tell you again.”

You put the plug back in your mouth, coating it in spit like your life depends on it. Coating it with spit like you coated my cock before we left the hotel.

I watch you reach back and slide it in your waiting ass. A mix of discomfort and pleasure takes over as you accept it into your body.

You bury your mouth into my neck as I tap my phone, your body burning with overwhelming pleasure.

“Please. Please fuck me. Please”

“But we’re only just starting? You don’t want to give up now do you?”

“I need to cum.”

“I know.”

Two taps.

“OH MY FUCKING GOD.”

“You say the word and this can all be over.”

“I can do this.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Another loud smack on your ass echos through the halls.

We ascend the staircase and I can see each step you take is sending bolts of pleasure through your body.

The next gallery is perfect – we have an audience. You look me in the eye, silently pleading for me to be reasonable, but something catches my eye.

“Sit in front of that,” I tell you nodding my head in the direction of a large metallic sculpture.

You do. There’s no need for me to make the vibe dance inside you, but I do anyway. Just enough to remind you that you wanted this.

“Spread your legs,” I whisper in your ear. Realisation washes over you as you look ahead at the polished surface of the sculpture.

“People will see.”

“They might. Are you refusing an instruction?”

You bite your lip and shake your head.

“Good. Because people would definitely see if I had to punish you.”

You shuffle your legs apart bit by bit until your pussy lips are just visible in the reflection.

A single tap to remind you why you are here results in a loudly whispered “fuck.”

A couple of heads turn but it seems like no one has noticed your glistening cunt yet.

“It appears as though no one has noticed.”

Paralysed with trepidation you breath deeply in response.

“Do bursa merkez eskort you want them to see?”

You bit your lip again, and shake your head.

“And why’s that?”

A faint mumble catches my ear but it’s not enough.

“Say it again.”

“I said ‘because it’s your cunt’.”

“Good girl.”

I reach for my phone and you tense up on anticipation. I notice someone looking sideways at us but trying not to be noticed. They’re jealous. They can see your cunt. My cunt.

“I think someone has seen you.”

Instinctively you close your legs slightly, and the sensual whisper in your ear becomes stern and instructive.

“And you were doing so well too. You clearly need to be shown the meaning of obedience. Get up.”

We cross the room together, floorboards squeaking beneath our feet. I catch sight of the person who saw your reflection whisper to their companion as we grow nearer. A wink is enough to confirm what they saw.

As we reach the stairs, my hand tightens on your wrist and pulls you towards me. Towards the bathroom door I am pulling open with my other hand.

My mind races. What do I do to teach this set of holes a lesson? How do I make her learn? How do I make her feel?

I reach back and lock the door behind you, pinning you against it and sliding my hand up your dress. Soaking wet. Swollen. Perfect.

There is no need for any words now. You know what you deserve. What you want. You’re aching for it. I can feel your cunt twitch when I drum my fingers against your puckering hole. Your body begging for me. To be used by me.

My lips meet yours as my finger slips inside you, teasing the entrance to your pussy. Dipping in an out playfully bouncing off the vibrator still inside you, torn between telling you to remove it or telling you to ensure it stays where it is.

Without instruction, you drop to your knees with your hand immediately tracing the outline of my growing cock through my trousers. Even a fumbly button fly cannot stand between you and your prize.

You open my trousers and pull them down slightly admiring the wet spot on my underwear. A soft kiss through the fabric gives way to your peeling my underwear down; my cock springing free to greet you glistening with anticipation.

You start slowly with your tongue flittering against me. You wipe your lips across the tip of my cock as if to introduce them before opening to slowly take more of me into you.

I reach down to grab a handful bursa sınırsız escort of your hair, and pull your face up towards me slightly. On my other hand is a my phone, and quick snap of my cock between your mouth to mark the occasion is dismissed in favour of a couple of taps on the app to remind you of what you are.

Slowly you take more of me into you with your tongue dancing around my throbbing shaft as the top of my cock finds the back of your throat. A slight gag followed by recognition of your reward hangs in the air.

A second hand finds your head, and the handful of hair gives way to a firm grip on each side. I begin to thrust my hips in time with your rhythm, bouncing my cock off the back of your throat. Your eyes closed in focus. There is nothing your world beyond my cock and nothing in mind beyond your throat – still manfully battling against the invading party.

Lost in a world of pleasure, I’m stuck by a thought.

“Where do you want my cum?”

No sound but an increasing speed answers me. You don’t know what that means for you, but I’m glad you’ve chosen it.

My hips thrust against your mouth with my balls slapping against your chin. The spit dripping off your lower lip dangles lower and lower, landing on your exposed tits with a friendly splat.

“You want to taste my cum do you?”

A muffled “mhmm” is the reply vibrating along my cock. I grab the back of your head and begin to thrust deeper. Your choking noises can almost certainly be heard beyond the room, but I don’t care. Your mouth is mine, just like your ass and your cunt, and I’m free to use it how I please.

Thick ropes spurt my from throbbing cock hitting the back of your throat coating your tongue and sliding down your throat. You reach forward, pulling me deeper into you to not miss a drop. It’s a shame – I wanted you to show me what you’d earned. But no matter; my cum is sliding down your throat as you stare up at me from your knees.

“You wanted my cum in your mouth didn’t you?”

A nod: “yes.”

A loud slap echoes around the tiled room. A red mark slowly appears on your face.

“I said ‘you wanted my cum in your mouth didn’t you?'”

“Yes. Thank you.” Your voice emanating false confidence ruined by your delicious, hungry pussy.

“It’s a shame though… for you.”

You look up at me with the reddening hand mark on your cheek.

“It’s a shame because if you hadn’t have been a greedy cum-hungry whore we’d have gone to the hotel. But now I’ve cum down your throat you don’t need to be cleaned upz and I’m happy to stay out longer. And you didn’t even show me before you swallowed.”

Another echoing slap and a backhander mark begins to show on your cheek. A look of resignation falls across your face as I drop my semi-flaccid cock on your forehead. Two taps.

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