Mary hesitated for a moment at the door. She knew the man inside, professionally. He was a brilliant writer and she found him fascinating, yet what she was about to enter into was completely different. As a librarian, she really appreciated him. But as a woman, could the same be said? She’d come this far, she couldn’t chicken out now. She knocked on the hotel door tentatively, not knowing what to expect. The door swung open. Inside, the suite was dark. She couldn't see beyond the hallway that led away from the first room. She stepped in and was about to close the door when something large and warm covered her eyes and mouth from behind. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end before spreading down her back. She hadn't heard or felt a thing.

"Don't make a sound," he commandedf softly in her ear. She recognized his voice. Her knees felt weak, but her loins were damp, threatening to leak. "Lean forward, hands on the wall." She heard the hotel door click closed. The locked turned and clanked into place. His foot shot between hers and spread her feet further apart. "I've got to search you. Stay quiet for your own good."

Strong hands started at the base of her neck and spread out and up her arms. They descended, kneading her flesh. One hand slipped around her front and cupped her breast, followed quickly by the second, squeezing. A thumb and forefinger tweaked her nipple. "Ouch," she said to herself, drawing in a deep breath. Those hands left her tits and ran over her taut belly and quickly checked the circumference of her hips before diving down in front, cupping her mound.. Strong, coarse fingers stroked her lips through the material of her skirt.

His face nestled in the crook of her neck, his five o'clock shadow scraping her flesh. His hot breath sending a fresh wave of goose bumps down her spine. "Oooh," he said. "I think you're moist." His fingers worked to probe beneath the hem of her panties, finally one slipped into her. Her muscles contracted instinctively, trying to grip his finger, not wanting it to leave the confines of her love.

As quickly as his hand had found her pussy, it was gone, running the length of one leg, then the other, strong, warm and coarse. Her thighs tingled with anticipation. She hoped they would stop again where she was wet. But they didn't.

He reached up and took one of her hands and drew it behind her. She felt cold steel applied to her wrist, the ratchet sound came almost after she found her appendage encompassed by the hard metal. The procedure was repeated with the other arm, binding her hands behind her.

His hands receded. Something dark was draped over her eyes. The material was pulled tight and secured. It was soft, but she was completely blinded.

He spun her around and pressed her against the door, the bolt lever jabbed her forearm, and her wrists hurt. She winced in pain and took in a sharp breath. It wasn't great pain, but enough to get attention off her pussy. His lips covered hers and his tongue punched into her mouth. One hand grabbed her by the back of the head and drover her forward to his face. His whiskers rubbed her cheek raw. His other hand dropped to her breast, his fingers seeking and pinching her nipple.

His hand on her head slipped around and forced her face to the side as his mouth and tongue trailed to her neck, leaving a wet, rash-raised trail. With her head still pinned to the side, he ripped her shirt open, buttons skittering across the floor. His mouth dropped and mauled the top of her tits. He tore open the front of her bra, freeing her breasts. His mouth locked on her nipple and bit. His tongue found her nipples and circled the stiffening pink flesh.

"I like a woman who can follow direction," he said. "Can you follow direction?" She fought to nod, but his grip was too strong. He yanked her skirt down to her ankles. He knelt and pressed his face into her damp panties, his tongue probed her wetness. "Mmmmm," he said.

He grabbed the top of her panties and slowly pulled them down to join the skirt around her ankles.

She shivered as his tongue ran roughly upwards along the folds of her labia into what little pubic hair she hadn't shaved. His hands reached behind her and gripped her ass hard, fingers kneading flesh, fingers probing.

He stood slowly, running his tongue along her body, sending shivers and goose bumps along her nerves. He pulled her away from the door and lead her deeper into the suite. He stepped behind her and uncuffed one hand.

Before she could enjoy the release, he spun her around and forced her down, using the handcuff as leverage. He pushed her back and knelt over her. He dragged one arm above her head, then the other. He did something and reattached the cuff to her free wrist. Her hands were now secured over her head as she lay on her back. He got off. Then he secured one ankle to a rope, then the other ankle. Her legs had very little room to move and were apart, far apart. Oh my God, she thought. Never before had she been so absolutely vulnerable, so totally at the mercy of another.

His hands parted her thighs even further. His hot breath blew across her clit. She tried to hold back the shudder that ran through her body. She was his and she couldn't wait for him to take her, however he wanted.

He moved too slowly. She strained against the restraints trying to raise her hips closer to his lips. She was close, so close, yet he continued to tease by slowly increasing the speed of his tongue, then slowing or stopping altogether. She begged him to go faster, to let her cum. But he was stubborn. Finally, after what seemed like an hour, he inserted a finger into her damp cunt. He didn't just coax an orgasm but drew it from the pit of her loins. It was if he struck a match and the combustion caused a searing white hot explosion. He didn't stop. The orgasm continued to wash over her in waves of ecstasy. She needed him inside her, like she needed oxygen; she needed all of him, deeply penetrating, touching every jangling nerve that he had exposed.

Somehow she found herself free from restraint, still stunned by the force of her orgasm. She focused on one thing, having every inch of him inside her. He obliged her as if reading her mind. His thrust was neither gentle, nor destructive; rather he delivered powerful blows with a rhythmic power building in intensity. She wrapped her legs around his waist, while trying grasp his pistoning cock with her highly sensitized and aroused pussy. It felt as if he was going to rip her vagina away from her pelvis. He jammed his arms behind her knees, pulling them forward so that she was nearly folded in half and exposed as he plunged even deeper into her.

His breathing had become labored, his chest slick with sweat. She felt his thrusts linger within her. She begged him to cum inside her, her voice ragged with the intensity of her own orgasm still shimmering through her sex. His scrotum slapped her ass with each penetration. He groaned and thrust so deep she felt as if he's going to nail her to the bed.

"I'm cumming," he said. He fought against her legs that were trying to keep him inside her. His cock slid from her cunt, trailing her own moisture.

"No," she said, still clammering to get him back inside. "Please."

He staggered to his knees, leaning over her. She opened her mouth, thinking that was his target. She stretched her tongue out, awaiting his cock.

A splat of hot semen streamed across her cheek, followed by another on her chin and neck. She felt another land high on her forehead and in her hair. Then he pushed his fat cock in her mouth, his seed still pumping as his hand stroked his rigid length into her hungry mouth. She couldn't get enough of her own scent and the slickness as her tongue slides along his shaft. His breathing was labored and he fell next to her on the bed, his cock leaking across her breasts. His thigh settled on her stomach. He was spent.