Alex Adams had agreed to the evening on a Tuesday over coffee. By Friday night he was on Anna de Ville's bench in her basement studio, naked, wrists buckled wide above his head, ankles set into stirrups that held his thighs open exactly the way she wanted them. She had not touched him yet. She was on the other side of the room, fitting a black harness around her hips and watching him in the mirror while she did it.
"You like the bench?" she asked over her shoulder, calm, conversational, while her fingers worked the buckle at her waist. "Bryan built it for me. Took him three weekends. I sent him a photo of you on it last week and he wrote back two words. Lucky guy. He meant Bryan, by the way. Not you."
Alex tried to answer. She lifted one finger without turning her head and the answer died in his throat. The harness clicked into place. She did not put a shaft into it yet. Anna walked over to him empty, in nothing but the harness and a black bra, and stood between his open thighs with a bottle of warm oil in her hand. She poured a thick stream of it down the length of his cock from above, watched it run, watched him twitch, did not touch.
"I am going to stroke you for a while," she said. "Long enough that you forget what you came here to do. When I am done with that, I am going to fuck you. When I am done with that, you are going to watch me finish, and then we are going to talk about whether you have earned anything else. Yes?"
"Yes."
"Yes who."
"Yes, Anna."
The first stroke was so slow it felt deliberate as a sentence. Her hand closed around the base of him, slid up through the oil with a tight twist at the head, came back down. Counted in her own head. Slid up again. The pressure was perfect and unhurried, the kind of grip you get from somebody who has done this for a decade and has stopped guessing. He was hard before the fourth stroke and leaking by the seventh. She did not change pace.
She worked him like that for the better part of forty minutes. Long, deliberate, two-handed strokes that took him from soft to brutal in slow drags. Tighter strokes when she wanted to watch his stomach jump. Looser ones when she wanted to listen to his breath catch. She used both hands at once when she wanted his hips trying to lift off the bench, then dropped one hand to lazily cup his balls just hard enough to make him whine. Every time he hit the edge she felt the tell in the muscles of his thighs and stopped, hand still wrapped around him, and waited. Sometimes thirty seconds. Sometimes two minutes. Her free hand traced patterns on the inside of his thigh while she waited and her face stayed bored.
By the eighth edge he was making sounds he could not hear himself make. By the eleventh he was begging out loud in a voice he did not recognise. She let him beg. She did not stroke faster.
"Almost time," she said eventually, and let go. She stepped back to the wall, picked up a thick black silicone shaft and slid it into the front of the harness. She did not lock it in. She held the base of it, walked back to him, and fed it into her hand instead so she could oil the length of it slowly while he watched, both hands working it the way she had been working him. He could not tell what was worse. The fact that she was doing it. Or the fact that she was looking at him the entire time.
She locked the shaft in. Lifted his ankles a little higher in the stirrups. Pressed the head of the strap-on against him and pushed in by inches, watching his face for every shift in tension and waiting for it to settle before she went deeper. By the time her hips were against his ass and her hand was flat on his stomach he was already shaking under her.
Then she fucked him. Slowly, at first, with the same patient pace she had used on his cock. Long strokes that pulled almost all the way out and pressed all the way back in. She watched her own hips, watched the shaft disappear into him, watched his cock jump every time she bottomed out. Faster after a few minutes, harder, with one hand braced on his thigh and the other wrapped loosely around his shaft just to feel the rhythm of his pulse. He was begging her again somewhere around the third minute. She fucked him harder. She did not touch his cock with anything more than a loose distracted grip, and every time he tried to push up into that grip she squeezed his hip with her other hand to remind him whose pace this was.
When his thighs started to lock and his cock got that desperate shine that meant he was three strokes from coming whether he liked it or not, she pulled out of him entirely and stepped back. Took the harness off. Set it on the bench beside his shoulder so he had to look at it. Walked around to the head of the bench, climbed up, and lowered herself onto his face without a word.
"You do not get to come tonight," she said from above him, settling her weight, fingers already working herself slowly. "But you are going to make me come twice on your tongue and you are going to do it well, and then you are going to thank me, and we are going to talk about whether you come back next Friday. Open your mouth."
He opened his mouth. She rocked down. He made the soft desperate sound a man makes when he understands the contract he signed. She took her time. She took a very long time. When she came the first time she did not move at all. She just braced one hand against the wall behind his head and breathed, eyes closed, cunt pulsing on his tongue, and his cock twitched untouched against his stomach the entire way through it. When she came the second time, longer and louder, she finally let one hand drift back and grip him at the base, just hard enough to remind him it was still hers. She did not stroke. She did not need to. He almost came from the grip alone and she felt it and squeezed harder until the moment passed and he was crying quietly underneath her.
"Good boy," she said, and climbed off, and left him on the bench cuffed and aching while she walked to the sink to rinse her hands. "I'll uncuff you in a minute. Tell me which Friday next month you are free. We are going to do this again."
Want the real version? Browse pegging, strap-on and handjob scenes on SweetFemdom, or watch every Anna de Ville and Alex Adams scene plus the full AdultPrime Network. Join now.