Into the Curiosity Shop

It brought him immense gratification beyond just the sex. A half an hour or so she was just a girl on the street walking by his shop, curious like any other teenager would be. But this girl, the good girl straight A student star athlete--he knew she would eventually tell him that that was indeed the case--she was now his pet. More had happened than he had actually hoped for. She was now about to soak his hand with her juice, the result of a relentless hammering. He kept his hand still at the end, felt her grind against it more. He was already thinking of the calm afterward, and what he would say to her.

And indeed he simply watched as she twisted and wrenched, freeing her wrists from his grip and pressing her sweaty hands against the mirror. She ground her crotch against his hand, his finger still in her, grinding like a wanton slut, her lips pulled back in a snarl, eyes screwed shut. For a brief moment she was nothing but an animal, a sexual animal as she used her body to fuck his hand. Then she was slumped against the mirror, a sweaty mess, her knees trembling beneath her.

He did one last thing after he watched her stomach muscles clench through her orgasm. He loved the way she, in the end, fucked his hand. He admired her strength and conditioning. Her stomach was slick with sweat and the scent of her pussy was everywhere. Except one place. He slowly withdrew his hand from inside, dragged a trail of her cunt up her stomach to her tit and bent and licked it off. He wanted to hug her, suddenly, to collapse on a bed, but he didn't want to her to think this was going to be love. He watched her breathing eventually slow. "Take off the boots," he said quietly. "I'll keep them here for you to wear tomorrow. I'm going to clean up." He turned his shoulders away from her and walked through an open door on the back wall.

She was standing there, panting, trembling, unable to do anything more. She watched as he wiped a trail of her copious juice up her body. And despite the aftermath of her orgasm she gave a small squeal of excitement as he wiped it on her breast, her hard nipple so sensitive as he bent his mouth to the skin. And then he was gone again, moving away, talking about tomorrow. She nodded. There was no reason to pretend that she wouldn't be coming back. Despite her worries about what could be next, what she might let him do, what a man who had a shop with all these . . . things might do. She was coming back. Later, dressed again, she slipped out onto the sidewalk and to her life.