Free Going Too Far by Unknown

enough freedom of movement on the chain. But no, he took the opportunity to slip a thick black band over my head and around my eyes.
    ‘Carlos, it’s a bit scary.’
    Without being able to see his face, his laugh sounded satanic.
    ‘I suppose it is. After all, when I get back you won’t actually know it’s me, will you?’
    I whimpered.
    ‘For all you know, I might have given the key to the old squatter we saw earlier.’
    ‘Carlos, please!’ My voice was anguished.
    ‘I offered him a feel of you, but he said no. Don’t be hurt, though. I think it was just that he was afraid that I was some kind of nut who’d slug him after he’d touched you.’
    ‘You didn’t!’
    ‘I asked him if he wanted to put his finger up your cunt, and showed him how wet it was.’
    My face flamed once more but Carlos found my real reaction to humiliation as he suddenly penetrated me with two fingers. Three, four times he thrust in and out as I arched my back to meet him, then he stopped as abruptly as he started.
    ‘ Hasta la vista ,’ he said mockingly as he left the room, and minutes later the apartment door slammed.
    Time seemed to stand still. I could have sworn Carlos was gone for hours, but he had told me we had a dinner reservation for nine. Bitterly I regretted agreeing to anticipation. How did I know he hadn’t decided to prolong my anticipation by going to dinner alone . . . or even worse with someone else? Or that he wouldn’t come back with that someone else and let him or her loose on me as I lay bound and helpless?
    Still, as long as it wasn’t the old squatter; if it was a friend, or a girlfriend I might not mind. But then if he didn’t take the blindfold off, how would I know? I tortured myself with the possibilities of what was to come, and tortured myself even more by imagining that after all he would do what he did last night and come back and put me to bed without allowing me release.
    Finally the apartment door opened. I called out but got no answer. Minutes passed then he – or someone – came in the room.
    ‘Carlos?’ I began. A hand crushed my mouth and I froze. I thought it was his, but in any event took the hand as a warning not to speak. It moved away from my mouth when satisfied that I was silent and moved to my nipples. First one, then the other, were gently stroked then pulled harder until they must have been an inch long. Then the hand started stroking my mons, taking my hairs in between its fingers, and pressing down hard enough to start my clitoris fluttering. It moved again and caressed my clit, gently then harder, but it seemed to sense my nearness and stopped and instead the fingers slipped in and out of me again. Still I couldn’t be sure it was Carlos. I couldn’t smell his cologne but then, had he worn it this morning, or was that just put on for work the day before? I consoled myself that at least it didn’t smell like a dirty old man.
    Suddenly my ankles were unclipped from the bedpost and a body, warm, muscular and covered with fine hairs, pressed against me. Sure now it was him I raised my legs to wind them round his back, but he put them over his shoulders and clipped the ankle cuffs together. A cock pressed against my slit and entered me without difficulty and I pushed against it. It filled me wholly, satisfyingly, and having spent more than twenty-four hours waiting for it I knew that even if it wasn’t him I didn’t care. The choker tightened round my neck as I thrust up to meet him and he thrust even more violently inside me. I strained against my bonds, wanting my finger on my clit, but as we pushed even more furiously against each other I felt a finger on it, no, not a finger, because suddenly it was making a noise and my muscles heaved and crashed like the walls of Jericho tumbling down as the combination of the cock and the vibrator brought me to the best orgasm I had ever had in my life.
    Of course I had to get away from Lima. Sitting in the guesthouse in Cuzco, I