Ross Gaines is arrogant. Tells you with a sneer that you couldn’t make him beg, but you’re welcome to try.
His resolve doesn’t break when you ask oh-so-sweetly if you can tie him up.
“Ugh. Fine,” he mutters, sitting down on the chair and glaring up at you through his glasses.
“We don’t have to do anything you don’t wan-,” the words are barely out of your mouth when he interrupts.
“No, you have your fun. It’ll prove that you need me in control.” Arrogant, you think.
You wrap rope around his body and the back of the chair so he’s fastened in tight. You try not to think about the times he’s had you bound with the same rope. Your hands tied together, bent in half, getting pounded from behind into the couch…
Ross exhales a half-laugh.
“Distracted?”
Yes.
“No.”
He moves as if to break free, testing his confines, but they don’t budge.
“Impressive work. You a Girl Guide back in the day?”
His praise makes you feel hot. You elect to ignore him though, instead unfastening the zipper of his slacks.
Ross spreads his legs in a way that can only be called manspreading, giving you better access to open his zipper, tug his boxers down to rest below his balls, and expose his cock to the cool air. He’s half hard and his balls tighten slightly at the touch of your soft hands, dick jumping at the contact. Sensitive.
You break the silence with this observation.
“You’re sensitive, Ross,” you whisper, letting your manicured hands gently caress his cock, wrapping around him in a loose fist and tugging. He’s feverishly hot and thick in your palm, and you drag your eyes away from his length to watch his face.
His face is caught between a silent gasp and that permanent sneer he always seems to have. His cherry lips hang open as he mumbles back a reply, the wheels visibly turning in his head.
“Not sensitive. Just pent up. Stop teasing.” He bites, but his eyes don’t hold any malice, especially as you take him in a firmer grip and pump him faster in your fist. They soften and flutter closed, and you grin.
“Nuh-uh. Teasing is fun,” you whisper in his ear, planting a kiss on his neck just below his earlobe before letting go of his cock completely. He glares at you, but his cheeks are still flushed and his eyes are still clouded over with lust. It’s working.
His dick stands to full attention, ruddy head peeking out from his foreskin and dribbling precum. It kicks, begging for your attention again, even if Ross’ arrogant attitude won’t let him.
You make sure he’s watching and not rolling his eyes as you reach under your skirt, tugging your panties down torturously slowly until they pool on the floor. He can’t see anything, your skirt hiding what he wants to see - your drippy little cunt - but the knowledge that you’re bare beneath makes him groan.
“Stop teasing. Now. That’s an order.”
“Like this?” You hum sweetly, turning around and bending over slightly. It’s not enough for him to see anything past the beginning of the curve of your ass, but the tease is enough to have Ross throbbing. He moves in his chair, determined to grab you and sit you down on his cock, but his restraints stop him and he scowls.
“Not like that, you vexing little brat.”
“No?” The picture of faux innocence, you bat your eyelashes at him and slowly straddle his thighs, just inches away from where he needs you. His eyes try to follow beneath your skirt but you make sure to keep your modesty hidden behind the fabric.
Ross moves uselessly again. He can feel how warm you are, how wet you are, against his thigh, and thoughts of him sliding home and stuffing your perfect pussy full make him dizzy with need. His head falls back as you giggle and readjust your seat, cunt making contact with the aching length of his cock. Pressed up against him, he can feel every ridge of you - the puffiness of your clit, the inviting dip of your hole, the slickness of your lips pressed against him.
It’s not enough yet too much, and Ross breaks.
“[Y/N], let me fuck you,” he pants, trying to cant his hips up the best he can for the friction.
You pretend to think.
“I don’t know, Ross. You’ve been awful mean to me,” you slowly grind down on him, his cock slipping through your folds and nudging against your clit. Ross groans, and you decide it’s time.
“Beg me.” You demand.
His eyebrows furrow and he looks to consider it for a moment, before that sneer replaces any expression on his face.
“Not a chance. You want this as bad as I do,” his voice is shaky, less confident than usual.
You sigh dramatically, pulling away and standing up. The loss of your warmth and friction makes Ross have to bite back a whine.
“I do. But I can finish myself off, maybe in the room next door - you wouldn’t mind that, would you?”
You step into your panties again, dragging them up your thighs, pretending to be serious about your threat. They’re halfway up your thighs when Ross breaks.
“Please.”
You pause, but don’t look at him. Ross huffs.
“Please. I’m sorry, just - please.”
You smile.
“Please what?”
Ross’ head hangs forward, embarrassment and need seeping through every pore of his body.
“Please, let me fuck you.” Like a dam breaking, everything comes out.
“Please let me inside your pussy. Please, please. I’m begging you, just - don’t leave me, please. I’m so hard it hurts.”
You let your panties fall back to the floor. It would be cruel to not indulge your arrogant, pathetic boy, wouldn’t it?
Ross Gaines is arrogant. Tells you with a sneer that you couldn’t make him beg, but you’re welcome to try.
His resolve doesn’t break when you ask oh-so-sweetly if you can tie him up.
“Ugh. Fine,” he mutters, sitting down on the chair and glaring up at you through his glasses.
“We don’t have to do anything you don’t wan-,” the words are barely out of your mouth when he interrupts.
“No, you have your fun. It’ll prove that you need me in control.” Arrogant, you think.
You wrap rope around his body and the back of the chair so he’s fastened in tight. You try not to think about the times he’s had you bound with the same rope. Your hands tied together, bent in half, getting pounded from behind into the couch…
Ross exhales a half-laugh.
“Distracted?”
Yes.
“No.”
He moves as if to break free, testing his confines, but they don’t budge.
“Impressive work. You a Girl Guide back in the day?”
His praise makes you feel hot. You elect to ignore him though, instead unfastening the zipper of his slacks.
Ross spreads his legs in a way that can only be called manspreading, giving you better access to open his zipper, tug his boxers down to rest below his balls, and expose his cock to the cool air. He’s half hard and his balls tighten slightly at the touch of your soft hands, dick jumping at the contact. Sensitive.
You break the silence with this observation.
“You’re sensitive, Ross,” you whisper, letting your manicured hands gently caress his cock, wrapping around him in a loose fist and tugging. He’s feverishly hot and thick in your palm, and you drag your eyes away from his length to watch his face.
His face is caught between a silent gasp and that permanent sneer he always seems to have. His cherry lips hang open as he mumbles back a reply, the wheels visibly turning in his head.
“Not sensitive. Just pent up. Stop teasing.” He bites, but his eyes don’t hold any malice, especially as you take him in a firmer grip and pump him faster in your fist. They soften and flutter closed, and you grin.
“Nuh-uh. Teasing is fun,” you whisper in his ear, planting a kiss on his neck just below his earlobe before letting go of his cock completely. He glares at you, but his cheeks are still flushed and his eyes are still clouded over with lust. It’s working.
His dick stands to full attention, ruddy head peeking out from his foreskin and dribbling precum. It kicks, begging for your attention again, even if Ross’ arrogant attitude won’t let him.
You make sure he’s watching and not rolling his eyes as you reach under your skirt, tugging your panties down torturously slowly until they pool on the floor. He can’t see anything, your skirt hiding what he wants to see - your drippy little cunt - but the knowledge that you’re bare beneath makes him groan.
“Stop teasing. Now. That’s an order.”
“Like this?” You hum sweetly, turning around and bending over slightly. It’s not enough for him to see anything past the beginning of the curve of your ass, but the tease is enough to have Ross throbbing. He moves in his chair, determined to grab you and sit you down on his cock, but his restraints stop him and he scowls.
“Not like that, you vexing little brat.”
“No?” The picture of faux innocence, you bat your eyelashes at him and slowly straddle his thighs, just inches away from where he needs you. His eyes try to follow beneath your skirt but you make sure to keep your modesty hidden behind the fabric.
Ross moves uselessly again. He can feel how warm you are, how wet you are, against his thigh, and thoughts of him sliding home and stuffing your perfect pussy full make him dizzy with need. His head falls back as you giggle and readjust your seat, cunt making contact with the aching length of his cock. Pressed up against him, he can feel every ridge of you - the puffiness of your clit, the inviting dip of your hole, the slickness of your lips pressed against him.
It’s not enough yet too much, and Ross breaks.
“[Y/N], let me fuck you,” he pants, trying to cant his hips up the best he can for the friction.
You pretend to think.
“I don’t know, Ross. You’ve been awful mean to me,” you slowly grind down on him, his cock slipping through your folds and nudging against your clit. Ross groans, and you decide it’s time.
“Beg me.” You demand.
His eyebrows furrow and he looks to consider it for a moment, before that sneer replaces any expression on his face.
“Not a chance. You want this as bad as I do,” his voice is shaky, less confident than usual.
You sigh dramatically, pulling away and standing up. The loss of your warmth and friction makes Ross have to bite back a whine.
“I do. But I can finish myself off, maybe in the room next door - you wouldn’t mind that, would you?”
You step into your panties again, dragging them up your thighs, pretending to be serious about your threat. They’re halfway up your thighs when Ross breaks.
“Please.”
You pause, but don’t look at him. Ross huffs.
“Please. I’m sorry, just - please.”
You smile.
“Please what?”
Ross’ head hangs forward, embarrassment and need seeping through every pore of his body.
“Please, let me fuck you.” Like a dam breaking, everything comes out.
“Please let me inside your pussy. Please, please. I’m begging you, just - don’t leave me, please. I’m so hard it hurts.”
You let your panties fall back to the floor. It would be cruel to not indulge your arrogant, pathetic boy, wouldn’t it?
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