Bound for another two men (Man#1: the Blabber)
How I ended up in this situation was, to say the least, curious. I had simply posted a poll on my Tumblr account, letting my readers choose between two fantasies that my owner and I wanted to fulfill for me: one was a threesome with him and another man, no strings attached, and the other was to be tied up and have sex with two men alternately, culminating with my owner. The audience voted, and the decision was almost unanimous: the latter.
Coordinating it took time, it was the holiday season, and of the two friends I’d previously had sex with and wanted to share this fantasy with, one lived out of town. So, between one thing and another, it took us a month to find a date that worked for everyone.
Setting up the scene wasn’t easy either. Up until then, the most men I’d been with in a single day was two. I had no idea if I’d be able to handle it all, so to achieve that goal, and since we had 24 hours to make it happen, we decided one would be in the morning, another in the afternoon, and my owner would be the dessert at night.
The agreed-upon place was our trusted hotel, the one we used to go to before we moved in together. A place full of pleasant memories that would make me feel comfortable. We’d repeat what we’d done before: my owner would leave me tied up in the room, and we’d leave a key card at reception for each guest to pick up before coming up to meet me.
Though the situation wasn’t new to me, that didn’t stop me from feeling nervous and excited as the day began.
It wasn’t the first time I was going to have sex with Blabber, but it was the first time with vaginal penetration. Before, I’d only given him a handjob, along with my owner, at our place, though I was also convinced, despite having no proof, that it was him I’d gone down on that one time, blindfolded and with earplugs.
“Besides, he’s never seen me like this, in my underwear,” I thought to myself, immediately realizing how that thought was a mistake for my composure.
I didn’t have much time to dwell on it. Punctual as only a man can be when sex is waiting on the other side of a door, he entered the room.
“Good morning, Hecuba!”
He planted a kiss on my cheek with all the naturalness in the world, as if having a woman tied up in skimpy clothing was an everyday occurrence for him.
“You’ve really gone all out with the colors,” he said with a smile, sitting next to me on the bed and starting to take off his sneakers.
With a dumbfounded grin on my face, I couldn’t manage to say anything. I just stared at him, trying to figure out if he was joking or not.
I’d known Blabber for a while. My owner’s friend was a handsome guy, the kind whose presence fills a room without him needing to say a word. Plus, he took care of his body. At first glance, he seemed like the typical cocky guy who’s better admired in photos than met in person, but when he started talking, he oozed magnetism. He was funny and charismatic. On top of that, he loved to read and could hold genuinely interesting conversations. Otherwise, he was the classic textbook womanizer. His heart belonged to his mother, and his dick was for everyone else. Rumor had it he wasn’t bad in bed.
“Do you like it?” I asked, looking at myself.
I’d chosen a lingerie set consisting of culotte-style panties (the ones that suit me best) and a triangle bra without cups, in a muted yellow. Matching the lingerie, the ropes were violet, and I was bound at the ankles and knees; a box-tie and a binding above my navel immobilized my wrists behind my back, accentuating my breasts.
“I like you more,” he said, not committing in the slightest as he took off his denim jacket and white t-shirt. Yes, he definitely had a killer body.
“Thanks,” I said, half-laughing with sarcasm.
“You’ll thank me later, when I’m done with you.”
With one hand, he started caressing one of my breasts under the bra, examining it closely, as if it were the first one he’d ever touched.
Maybe it was the bondage, maybe it was how he got straight to the point, but I was blushing and wet, both at the same time.
“With your legs tied like that, I’ll have to get creative,” he observed, still fondling the same breast, playing with my nipple between his fingers.
“I’m sure you’ll think of something,” I said before he made me let out a stifled gasp when he pinched it hard.
“Shhh, you’re distracting me.”
I turned my head to look at the ball gag and cleave gag resting on the hotel room’s nightstand, but if he noticed them, he ignored them completely.
With his other hand, he worked his fingers between my closed legs and began rubbing me with his fingertips, slipping the crotch of my panties into my sex, making the fabric dampen with my own juices.
I don’t know if he was aware of the clitoris’ existence because he ignored it the entire time he spent simply enjoying my body and getting me worked up. Stubborn and proud as I am, I held back from moaning with pleasure the whole time, though I was sure my face betrayed me, at least a little.
“Turn over,” he said suddenly.
And before I could even try, he grabbed me by the legs and waist and flipped me over himself. I had no idea what he was up to, but with flair and ease, he got me on my knees at the edge of the bed, facing away from him, and kept me upright by holding the ropes of my box-tie. That roughness, that confidence in everything he was doing, had me incredibly turned on. I heard the zipper of his pants and them dropping to his ankles. He wasn’t even going to bother fully undressing, and that made me bite my lower lip. With one hand, he pulled my panties down to the rope at my knees, and with the other, I could feel him guiding his cock, rubbing it along the entire length of my slit. Feeling the head glide, wet, against my opening was a delight… But that wasn’t what I wanted. What I craved was for him to penetrate me, but he kept playing that game until he pulled me firmly by the waist and breasts, and I felt my bound hands against his abs.
Then, yes. Then he pushed into my core. Not roughly, but letting my own juices and my own sex gradually make way for his cock, sliding in and out as my lubrication allowed, until he was fully inside me.
He had skill, he had flair, he had the strength to take me in that position, holding my dead weight.
Keeping it inside me but without starting to thrust, he moved his hips in circles, rubbing against the entire surface of my vaginal walls.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he said when he heard my breath catch, the only audible sign I was giving him.
“It’s not that big a deal,” I managed to say, stubborn and defiant, holding back from showing anything on my face despite him being behind me.
“Oh, really?”
He pulled out slowly to the tip and thrust back in fully in one motion.
“No…” I lied, summoning all my willpower.
“And now?” With the hand of the arm wrapped around my chest, he squeezed one breast and picked up the pace inside me.
“Mmph,” a gruff grunt and a shake of my head were my only ways of denying the obvious.
“No? Not even now?”
And, leaving me impaled, he moved his free hand to my clit and started rubbing it in circles.
A high-pitched moan began to rise from deep in my throat, and even biting my lip couldn’t silence it. As he rubbed it more and more, my mouth opened, and my eyes closed.
He let go of my torso, and I, weak and distracted by pleasure, fell face-first onto the mattress.
“Looks like you’re not making this easy for me, like you want me to think only of myself,” he added, placing two pillows under me.
“Oh, a man whose ego depends on a woman’s opinion of him, poor thing,” I teased with a smirk.
There was no verbal reply from him; he simply pulled me by the hips and let his cock do the talking. I thought he wouldn’t hold back, that he’d get rough, but instead, he was gentle and methodical. With fluid, rhythmic movements, he penetrated me carefully—sometimes he took charge, sometimes he kept his hips still, and I was the one bouncing my ass against him. It was all in a harmony that left my soul free. Was this the magic they talked about? That on the outside, he maintained a cocky facade, but in bed, he wasn’t?
There was no rush, but no caresses either. It wasn’t a “wham, bam, thank you, ma’am” fuck, but it wasn’t making love either. In a limbo where Blabber moved with absolute mastery, he fucked me unhurriedly and carefully. He relaxed me, made my pride step aside on its own, and we began to pant together in sync.
“I’m close…” I groaned, asking without asking.
“Ladies first.”
And gradually, with one hand on my waist to guide me and another on my wrist bindings to hold me upright, he sped up inside me, matching the moans rising from my throat until they turned into my classic tired, pleasurable laugh (am I the only one who laughs after an orgasm? I hope not!).
Without warning, he let go of me, and I fell back onto the pillows, letting out a high-pitched, amused squeal.
“And you?” I asked, wriggling as best I could in my bondage to look at his face for the first time in all that.
“Oh, a woman whose ego depends on whether she makes a man come or not, poor thing,” he shot back, using my own words.
He tossed the pillows to the floor and flipped me face-down.
The rest, well… you can imagine.
Do you want to know more about me? Check on the next posts.
My sexual stories.
Bound for another man. My most popular story so far.
Bound for Another Two Men (Part 0: Introduction. Fantasizing about Being a Damsel in Distress and Stockholm Syndrome) I repeat experience.
Duet of Moans. Having Vanilla Sex. Having sex with my owner after a nap.
The Chair and the Mirror. A forced orgasm tied up on a chair?
Kinky Breakfast. Back to the game. A romantic and perfect morning.
The (non bondage) Task. A pleasant afternoon with my owner.
Ethics and handjobs I like to do the right.
Bondage Detox part 2. Playing my cards. Trying to change my owner's mind about my punshiment.
Bondage Agreement. How my owner and I rule our relationship.
Bondage Detox part 1. When I was punished to not to be tied up.
Hogtied Endurance. My longest hogtied until that moment.
My first Sunday on Tumblr. I blogged tied up and gagged.
My personal stories
Hypnosis at the Office. My first time. Discovering new ways of submission.
Braids I like my owner deals with my hair.
My Ego is not my Amigo Dealing with myself.
The crotchrope How I see this tie.
Existential and Sexual Doubts. When Fantasy Puts Me to the Test. One person made me a sexual offering and I needed to think about it.
After-holidays analysis. Self explicative.
Nudist beach. Facing my fears. Self explicative.
How I ended up in Tumblr. Explanations and thanks. Self explicative.
What is bondage to me? A biography disguised as a question. Self explicative.
The insinuation. Dancing with words, looking for my dominant Just how I used to flirt in a Saturday night.
Una triste y fea historia de bondage que no va a gustar a nadie Only in Spanish.
I collect lingerie What I love about it.
My short and hot stories
My little secret trick My most popular short story so far.
Broken hopes Being tied up it can be a punishment even for me.
A thousand and one expectations My head fills up with dreams and fantasies when I'm tied up
My owner's fantasies
Unspoken hunger
Old Disney kinky fantasy
Hiding surprise
Underwear
Dressed for you
That game
A black and red gift
No rush
Ropes and words
Not just an ordinary afternoon
Gym outfit
Mischievous
Bondage desires
My limits
Pics
Hard spanking
Breath play
Tickles on bondage
Collars and leashes
Whips
Cages
Hoods
Kissing feet
My Stoic Good Morning Rituals
Eudaimonia Areté Wisdom Justice Courage Discipline Apatheia Acquiescence Prosoché Eupatheia