Thin Ties: Pt. I
Thin Ties
Pt. I
Pinefall is a little town in Northwestern California, past the San Francisco Bay, past the Mendocino Redwoods, past even Eureka. It is so far North, in fact, that it borders on being an Oregon town. Pinefall is squirreled away behind a copse of trees and the bank of a steep mountain incline. Summers were dry and warm and windy, but come winter the clouds cast a pallid shadow over the town. There were periods of wet rain, and periods of darkness. But summer always rolled back around and pushed some cloud cover away. While the more affluent locals tended to migrate towards bigger towns, like Red Canyon, the poorer youth clustered in Pinefall and created a new and vibrant community.
Dante was a member of that community. He was a young weasel, only twenty-two years old, but Pinefall was a new landscape in his life. He moved there to live with Callie, another weasel who he'd been dating for a few years. A big move like that, he'd been told, was a risk. Especially when you were only twenty-two, especially when you were moving for a girl. Especially when you weren't even done with college. Yet he'd gone and done it, with faith in himself and in her, and in his own ability to keep the threads of his life together. He found a job making coffee at the local Starbucks, and moved into a threadbare apartment with Callie. They filled it with cheap furniture and photo-copied images, printed off the Internet and taped to the walls.
That was when his life cracked.
Twenty-three fast approaching, Callie left him. She was nearly finished packing his things by the time he got home from work; he'd brought very little in the move, and some of his boxes had never been opened. The last box was taped shut moments after he closed the door, his apron still tied. She just pointed at it. He shook his head, tried to walk to the bedroom.
"Out, Dante," Callie said. "We spoke on the phone about this."
"I want to speak to you. Face to face. I won't accept it otherwise."
"Tough shit," she said, hoisting the box up and adding it to the pile. She had her reasons for leaving, she said, she insisted, but she wouldn't explain. "Talking about it is just... It's too painful," she said. She didn't want him to hate her, or to resent her, or to beg and plead to stay. She just wanted him gone, so she didn't have to look at him. The sooner the better, so she could move right on to remembering. So she packed up his things and made him take them and sent him out that night. He sat dazed with no clue where to go.
With his busted up car full of boxes, Dante drove away. He parked after a while and got out, sat alone under the trees, smoked a cigarette, and wondered what his life had come to.
-
Two cable ties held him fast, one on each wrist, his arms spread to their full lengths against the headboard. Dante squirmed. It wasn't the most comfortable he'd ever been. He still had his clothes on, but the lack of control made him feel more vulnerable than if he'd been naked. This had been Callie's idea, something fun to shake up the regular routine.
Yeah, well, what do you think is coming next? When he looked down, he could see the spot where his shorts were bulging, and he felt his face flush. Where is she?
He started feeling like maybe she was dragging this out too long. Then she came around the corner into the bedroom, completely naked save for the black collar she wore. Her little breasts weren't very full, but the nipples perked outward and gave him something to feel. She crawled up on the bed, on top of him, making him shudder, then took one of her breasts in her hands and guided it into his mouth. He kept his eyes open, looked at her while he suckled her nipple. She wore a dumb grin, obviously pleased to be in control. He flicked his tongue once across the firm nipple, back and forth, and Callie let out a surprised gasp, her eyes closing. Who's in control now?
She climbed off him.
"Where did you go?" Dante asked her. "You were gone for nearly an hour."
"Just felt like running some errands," she smirked, then winked. "Why, can't handle being left like that?"
"It's a little uncomfortable..."
Callie's eyes were drawn to the bulge in his shorts, and she raised an eyebrow.
"It sure looks like you've been uncomfortable. Maybe I ought to do something about that?"
He didn't have time to answer before she'd undone his shorts. His briefs did their damndest to keep everything inside after that, the fabric strained and stretching. She passed her hand over the area with the lightest feather of a touch. His groin twitched. She looked back up at him.
"Well?" she asked.
"I'm not exactly sure what I'm supposed to do, like this..."
"You don't have to do anything."
Then the briefs were off, a cool rush of air passing between his legs. Her warm fingers encircled his balls, giving them a mild squeeze. Not enough to be painful, but enough to send a shudder up his spine. She gave them a slight tug next, just as her lips closed around his tip. He shut his eyes, leaned back his head, and focused on her lips as they descended all the way to the base of him. F-Fuck! She'd never taken him all at once like that. Not this suddenly, this quickly.
But just as quickly as she'd gone down, she was back up. She licked her lips, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
"You like that?" she crooned.
"Jesus, Callie," Dante squirmed again, his wrists feeling raw against the restraints. "I didn't know you could even be like this."
She tossed her short hair out of her face, frowned at him.
"You think I'm not sexy enough?"
"I didn't say that. I just didn't know you could be this... This dirty. Fuck."
"I'll show you dirty, mister."
She turned, her haunches now directly in front of him. Her legs quivered as she lowered herself towards him, giving him the full display. The strong stench of sex rolled out into his nostrils, and he felt himself getting even stiffer. Is that even possible? Then Callie thrust herself onto Dante's face, the wet warmth smearing itself across his jaw.
He opened his mouth, extending the tongue. Right now Callie was doing the majority of the work, grinding herself into him, while he ran the tongue back and forth. Little squeaky moans escaped her in whispers. Dante worked hard, barely able to breath, his tongue rapidly circling the girl's clit. He felt her dribbling down his face, across his chin, heard her moans escalating. She thrust herself more firmly into his face, then leaned down and took his penis into her mouth again. She began to work almost as hard as he'd been, and while she continued to leak and squirm, she did her best to pleasure him too.
Callie's mouth was warm around his cock, which Dante felt had grown hard enough to cut a diamond. Then she pressed the side of her tongue against him, and his body gave an involuntary shudder of pleasure. He returned the favor, pressing his tongue flat against her, from the clit downward, holding it firm. She moaned, shifted, whined; she wouldn't last much longer.
Then again, neither would he.
She began to bob her head, and his hips began to thrust with her movement. He could hardly stand it anymore. Dante ran his tongue in quick circles around her, driving her mad. Callie reached out and took his balls in her hand and cupped them, squeezed them, rubbed him at the base; but she was careful not to slip off him. She kept her mouth in place and bobbed like a champ, like a boxer. In turn he only intensified his tongue lashing, and she began to buck hard against him.
Now she thrust her head all the way down to his base, taking him all the way with each motion. He felt fire in his loins, earthquakes in his back, saw stars overhead. He came--hard--blasting rope after rope of hot cum into her mouth. Feeling his first burst, she enveloped him completely and held her head there until he'd finished. The frenzied passion of his climax excited her, brought her even closer to the brink, and he began one last intense session of tonguing. And then she too burst, like a dam opening up, spraying him all over his face and jaws.
She lifted her head, took a gasping breath. He could see his own cum lining her mouth, not yet swallowed, shiny on her teeth. She didn't swallow it, nor did she get up to spit it out. Instead she leaned over, placed her mouth firmly against his and let it drip in. She held the kiss until he had swallowed most of himself, then she leaned back and wiped her lips.
"Now you've tasted us both tonight. I wonder which was better?"
Dante just smiled, fidgeted against the restraints.
"A little help?" he asked.
"Oh no," Callie said. "I don't think you've earned that quite yet..."