of the Bedrock Mob
By Dray Driver
Chapter 11: Heading
“Our breasts are heading southwards Master,” she’d observed. “It’s not that I’d want them up under my chin like a teenager, Master, it’s just that gravity’s not fair,’ she’d softly complained as she’d gracefully knelt onto her cushion. Annie’d snuggled between her seated master’s thighs and fidgeted to get her long gauzy skirt arranged just right before she’d wrapped herself around his moleskin clad leg and lowered her auburn crowned head on his thigh. She’d known that the old knee injury and poor circulation were giving him curry so she’d set out to ‘kiss it better’. She’d let the warmth of her pendulous breasts warm the calf that was pulled between them and she’d cradled the knee with a warming hand while she’d gently massaged the sore spot the way she’d learned that he liked.
He’d shifted in his chair, leant forward and absentmindedly fondled her earlobe under the magnificent auburn fall of hair while his attention was focused on Aunty’s latest political satire. Had she been watching her Master she’d have known that he wasn’t paying attention to the TV; she’d have seen that he was pondering something and then she’d have seen the satisfaction spread across his visage when he’d decided how he would respond. But she didn’t see any of that. All she heard was a chuckle and her master saying, “Love is supporting each other.” Then her master relaxed back into his big comfortable chair and gently used handfuls of her hair to pull her head back to rest against his groin. She’d slowly snuggled down to get comfortable, turned her head so her ear nestled against his flaccid member and inhaled his clean male scent.
She’d known that he’d forgotten all about his painful and overworked knee by then so she’d decided it would be OK for Him to ache in a more rewarding place so she’d quietly and gently used her ear to awaken his interest. His member engorged against her insistent ear and the aromatic scent of her own arousal wafted around them while she contemplated using her teeth to free him from his moleskins.
She’d ceased to be aware of her surroundings. She’d become a boneless mass of sensation that hovered on the very edge as she’d started to turn instinct into reality when a sharp tug of her auburn tresses snapped her out of her reverie.
‘What did he say,’ she’d thought as she looked needfully up into his smiling face.
“You’re back then sweetheart,” he’d smiled. “Would you bring the rope bag in please miannie?’
He’d selected two ten-foot shanks of ¼ inch woven cotton sash cord, that had been lovingly washed until it was soft and supple, and a forty-foot shank of 3/8 inch of supple rope from the bag.
He’d doubled the lengths of sash cord before he required her to lean forward to give him access to her pendulous 36D breasts. He’d firmly wrapped the doubled cored around the base of breast several times before he’d passed the ends through the bight before reversing one end to slightly tighten the loops and then wrapped the remaining cord around the wrappings before tying it off. He’d tucked the remaining ends into the wrapping.
“That looks neater sweetheart,” as he’d caressed her comfortably engorged breasts before gently nibbling on one excited nipple and its sterling silver barbell, before similarly entrammeling her other aching breast.
“Kneel on your cushion with your hands behind your head. Thanks sweetchops.” He’d passed the doubled rope behind her back and firmly under her wrapped breasts once before passing above them a couple of times before passing the ends through the bight and snubbing it up tight with a half hitch. The coarse hairs on the back of his hand caressed her budded nipple before his fingers wiggled under the ropes below her breasts. Her firmly, comfortably entrammeled excruciatingly sensitized breasts amplified his touch and she sunk on melting bones until her weight was supported by his hold on her chest ropes. He’d lowered her to her knees before he’d gently tucked the ropes through the gap made by his fingers and pulled the ropes up and parted them over her shoulders.
“Not heading southwards now sweetheart,” he said as he reached to tie the ropes off to those between her shoulder blades.
“Not under your chin like a teenager either micanuck,” as he helped her to her feet. “Hands behind honey,” as he proceeded to entwine ropes around her wrists and the ropes over her shoulders so that her arm’s weight was supported by the ropes that passed under her breasts.
She’d enjoyed experimenting with her bondage. She’d strained to lift her wrists and felt her breasts settle their weight onto her chest ropes. Then she’d let her wrists slump and felt her chest ropes tighten against her bound breasts as they were lifted.
“Comfortable chook,” she’d heard him ask and she’d turned to see that he was perched on the edge of his chair. He’d pulled the belt free of the loops on his moleskins and popped the waist stud. Her hazel eyes had gleamed as she smiled her acquiescence and she’d moved to stand in front of her special man.
“Please?” she’d asked cheekily from a suitably subservient pose.
He parted his legs to give her access to her cushion so she’d gleefully dropped to her knees and attacked his zipper with her sharp white teeth to release him from his moleskin confinement.
“Take it easy sweetheart,” he said cupping her head with a calloused hand as he calmed her. Then, thanking her man’s Dreamtime belief in freedom rather than the ‘Y” fronts that Angie had told her that Lewis preferred, she tongued his member free of the silken boxers that seemed so incongruous beneath his work-a-day moleskins and tried to nestle down to blow his mind as she’d learned at his knee.
Frustrated, she’d realized that her firmly bound breasts weren’t about to squash against her knees and let her get close enough, or low enough, to take more than his helmet into her warm mouth. She’d flicked with her tongue and sucked deeply straining to maintain the tenuous grip of her lips while she struggled to shift her legs out from under.
“Having trouble love?” he’d asked as he leant forward and fondled her earlobes with his roughened fingertips. He’d held her firmly as he’d eased her up onto her knees as he’d settled back in his chair and pulled her with him. Her barbells dragged excruciatingly over the chair’s creased leather and he’d held her head firmly to him as he’d used his feet to nudge her knees away from the chair.
She’d gagged as his heavy manhood had insistently found entry into her throat when she’d overbalanced and impaled herself on its silken length. Unable to breathe around the living obstruction in her throat she’d panicked and her tied hands fluttered until he’d taken her weight enough for her to breathe. Calm again once she had her knees for support she rocked gently forward and back. Sucking heavily as she rocked forward, grinding her up-thrust chin between his heavy balls and his purpled head drove deep into her grasping throat. As she rocked backward and his head eased from her throat she’d catch her breath before rocking forward again. Back and forward; suck heavily then catch a quick breath until he shuddered and his hot seed coated her throat. She’d quieted, held him in her mouth as he’d softened and then her lithe hot tongue had licked him clean.
She’d rested against his flaccid member for a bit until his hand on a sensitive nipple and his slowly engorging member had rekindled her need and she determined to assuage her reawakened hunger.
Later she’d covered him with her hair and rested against his thigh when he’d succumbed to the toil of a mid-spring day at Bedrock and to her loving ministrations. She flexed her back and rolled her shoulders to ease the stringent bondage. Her firmly bound breasts were even more sensitized now than they’d been when he’d first bound them hours previously and she’d had enough playing for today.
He’d untie her before they called it a night. Of course he would. All she had to do was to wake him up and ask nicely.
“It’s late sweetheart. If I untie you now you’ll want to have a shower and do all your girlie things. That’ll perk you up and I’m too buggered. No darlin’ you can sleep just like you are pet. That way I’ll get some uninterrupted swag time. In the morning we’ll untie you and rub ‘Deep heat’ into any sore spots while I give you a good massage. Then you can have a shower. K?” he said as he helped me to my feet and finally stripped her of her long gauzy skirt.
It was a warm balmy spring night and he just stretched out on top of the King Arthur-sized bed and promptly nodded off.
Her man, her lover and her master lay there in front of Annie; vulnerable and silvered in the moonlight that washed over him while the gentle breeze that wafted through the open window carried with it the scents of an Aussie night.
‘He’s dreaming again,’ Annie thought as she watched his silken and silvered member swell.
‘Wrong my master,’ she thought as she cautiously stepped up onto the bed and moved to straddle his narrow hips.
‘Here goes nothing,’ she thought as she slowly settled and felt his silken steel slide smoothly into her hot molten core.