Read Online Darkest Fantasies by Kimberley Raines - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kimberley Raines
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inability. 'Too
tired...'
'No bother,'
the woman whispered in a seductive voice. 'You don't need to do
anything. Just relax, honey-bun. We'll do things later. Now, just
lift your hips for me.'
Honey-bun? Who
the hell would call him honey-bun? The name caused a brief flutter
of irritation, then he was being moved again. His trousers slid
down over his feet and were gone. His pants went the same way.
Then, as he lay there on the bed in this strange and unusual
lethargy, to his surprise he began to have an erotic dream. He
dreamed that soft hands upon his body were wrapping leather straps
around his wrists and stretching his arms high, to almost
unbearable tightness, and buckling them firmly to the bedhead.
Chest expanded, feet tingling with suspense, he pulled at the
bonds, but they were firm.
A soft smile formed. Oh boy, he thought. Oh boy, don't wake me
now. He sank deeper into sleep. Soft leather encompassed his ankles
and his legs were parted and secured. He moaned and writhed with
severe sensual pleasure as his dream woman tethered him fast for
her pleasure. Oh boy, what a dream. Through his subconscious a
faint embarrassment filtered, diminished the pleasure slightly.
Blimey, what would Esther think of him if she knew? Still, there
was no harm in dreaming, and what she didn't know couldn't...
oh yes , hands were
fondling him. His strained awareness was sucked instantly to that
flaccid lump of flesh between his legs.
Despite his
lethargy and his inability to comprehend what had caused the
strange dream, he felt his penis begin to expand, to fill those
soft hands. It was the hands of an expert - the hands of a whore.
Damn! but she knew where to rub. His penis got bigger and bigger,
it throbbed, ached, swelled gloriously. She held his penis away
from his navel with one firm hand, softly drew back the foreskin
with the other, and began to make small circular motions with the
palm of her hand on the tip of his throbbing knob.
'Oh, baby,' he
whispered. 'Oh, baby, do it to me, baby.' His imagination worked
overtime. He thought of that waitress with big tits and imagined it
was her sitting over him, fondling him, leaning her melon-sized
boobs in his face, lifting her tiny skirt with nothing
underneath... 'Do it,' he whispered. 'I'm ready. Do it to me,
baby.'
But to his
irritation the hands left him and he gradually wilted. He struggled
to open his eyes, but the dream had him locked in darkness. He
wasn't sure whether his eyes were open or not, and although the
strange lethargy began to fade and the cotton wool seemed to recede
from his brain, he still found himself stretched unnaturally
tightly in bonds which were surprisingly real. Suddenly frightened,
his erection disappeared absolute. He tried desperately to wake
himself, but he could not. Drifting in and out of sleep for a
while, Kevin wasn't sure at what point he became sure he was not
dreaming. The dream had long ago lost its drive, lost its
eroticism, and he wanted out of it, only it wouldn't let go.
Finally he
woke up fully to the understanding that he was stretched out naked,
strapped in a star shape on a metal bed by restraints made of thick
padded leather which felt horribly serious. His penis had
shrivelled completely. He whimpered. What if someone came and found
him like this?
His new
consciousness told him he must have been drugged, and was no longer
under the influence of whatever he'd been given. But somewhere in
the back of his mind he recalled Esther making him a drink and
going out. After that he had climbed in a car with some woman, but
it was all so vague. Where the hell was he? He peered, but the
darkness didn't diminish. It wasn't the darkness of night, it was
simply the darkness of a place without light. A place with locks on
the doors, with leather straps holding him firmly in place. He
struggled, panicked by the unknown quantity of his situation, and
to add to his discomfort, he was busting for a pee.
What the hell
was going on? Where was Esther?
tired...'
'No bother,'
the woman whispered in a seductive voice. 'You don't need to do
anything. Just relax, honey-bun. We'll do things later. Now, just
lift your hips for me.'
Honey-bun? Who
the hell would call him honey-bun? The name caused a brief flutter
of irritation, then he was being moved again. His trousers slid
down over his feet and were gone. His pants went the same way.
Then, as he lay there on the bed in this strange and unusual
lethargy, to his surprise he began to have an erotic dream. He
dreamed that soft hands upon his body were wrapping leather straps
around his wrists and stretching his arms high, to almost
unbearable tightness, and buckling them firmly to the bedhead.
Chest expanded, feet tingling with suspense, he pulled at the
bonds, but they were firm.
A soft smile formed. Oh boy, he thought. Oh boy, don't wake me
now. He sank deeper into sleep. Soft leather encompassed his ankles
and his legs were parted and secured. He moaned and writhed with
severe sensual pleasure as his dream woman tethered him fast for
her pleasure. Oh boy, what a dream. Through his subconscious a
faint embarrassment filtered, diminished the pleasure slightly.
Blimey, what would Esther think of him if she knew? Still, there
was no harm in dreaming, and what she didn't know couldn't...
oh yes , hands were
fondling him. His strained awareness was sucked instantly to that
flaccid lump of flesh between his legs.
Despite his
lethargy and his inability to comprehend what had caused the
strange dream, he felt his penis begin to expand, to fill those
soft hands. It was the hands of an expert - the hands of a whore.
Damn! but she knew where to rub. His penis got bigger and bigger,
it throbbed, ached, swelled gloriously. She held his penis away
from his navel with one firm hand, softly drew back the foreskin
with the other, and began to make small circular motions with the
palm of her hand on the tip of his throbbing knob.
'Oh, baby,' he
whispered. 'Oh, baby, do it to me, baby.' His imagination worked
overtime. He thought of that waitress with big tits and imagined it
was her sitting over him, fondling him, leaning her melon-sized
boobs in his face, lifting her tiny skirt with nothing
underneath... 'Do it,' he whispered. 'I'm ready. Do it to me,
baby.'
But to his
irritation the hands left him and he gradually wilted. He struggled
to open his eyes, but the dream had him locked in darkness. He
wasn't sure whether his eyes were open or not, and although the
strange lethargy began to fade and the cotton wool seemed to recede
from his brain, he still found himself stretched unnaturally
tightly in bonds which were surprisingly real. Suddenly frightened,
his erection disappeared absolute. He tried desperately to wake
himself, but he could not. Drifting in and out of sleep for a
while, Kevin wasn't sure at what point he became sure he was not
dreaming. The dream had long ago lost its drive, lost its
eroticism, and he wanted out of it, only it wouldn't let go.
Finally he
woke up fully to the understanding that he was stretched out naked,
strapped in a star shape on a metal bed by restraints made of thick
padded leather which felt horribly serious. His penis had
shrivelled completely. He whimpered. What if someone came and found
him like this?
His new
consciousness told him he must have been drugged, and was no longer
under the influence of whatever he'd been given. But somewhere in
the back of his mind he recalled Esther making him a drink and
going out. After that he had climbed in a car with some woman, but
it was all so vague. Where the hell was he? He peered, but the
darkness didn't diminish. It wasn't the darkness of night, it was
simply the darkness of a place without light. A place with locks on
the doors, with leather straps holding him firmly in place. He
struggled, panicked by the unknown quantity of his situation, and
to add to his discomfort, he was busting for a pee.
What the hell
was going on? Where was Esther?
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