spewing
strings of pre-cum. Silently I skirted round behind him, grabbing a heavy
leather belt on the way. I drew back my arm and slammed the belt onto his
arse cheeks. Teague gasped and involuntarily tried to escape from the
source of the blow; the rope securing his hands ensured he didn't move
far. He ended up with his back arched, his legs behind him and resting on
the tips of his toes while the full weight of his body was taken by his
wrists in their rope-secured restraints.
Without giving him time to recover I slammed into him again and again,
criss-crossing his marblesque arse cheeks with 15 or 16 angry, red stripes
while he writhed and cried out.
I threw the strap into a corner, scooped up his legs and, turning him to
face me, placed his bootedankles on my shoulders and grasped his flaming
arse cheeks in my hands. In this position I was carrying most of his weight
and we were facing each other, eye-to eye.
He glared at me, panting heavily.
I stared into those angry eyes, never losing contact as I massaged his arse
cheeks, stretching them further apart as my fingers made their way to his
fuck-hole. His eyes glazed over and I grinned as I explored his hole. He
was already bearing down, opening up his hole for me.
"Fuck . . ." he sighed. "Fuck me . . . Dirty-fuck me . . . Dirty,
dirty-fuck me . . ."
I plunged two fingers deep into the hot, steamy recess of his fuck-hole and
immediately found our prize. I stirred my fingers around, stretching them
apart, opening his hole further,