Erotic CouplingsChapter 1 of 2Ongoing

A Willing Submission

A Willing Submission Pt. 01

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A Willing Submission Pt. 01

Thanks for your interest in my story.

This is the first time I've publicly shared my work.

They aren't perfect, but hold a special place in my heart, because it's my first attempt at writing anything.

I've loved Literotica since I stumbled across this site many years ago so I wanted to give something back to the community as thanks for the many hours I've spent lost in other authors' stories.

Both characters are adults, over 18, with a 23 year age gap.

Friendly and constructive feedback is very much welcome. I hope you enjoy!

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Paris, France - June, 18 months ago.

Angelica

I wake up slowly. I can tell immediately that something's not right. In fact, it's very wrong. I'm groggy and disorientated.

I'm blindfolded, gagged, and tied up. I try to dislodge what's in my mouth and pull against my restraints, but nothings moving. My skin feels strange, like I'm exposed, and then I realise I'm nude.

What the fuck?!

Disorientated and panicky, I try to pull myself together, but it's hard when fear and anxiety is overriding everything else. Get a hold of yourself, Angie, deep breath and focus.

I work on my breathing, getting myself under control before turning my attention to working out where I am.

The temperature in the room is bordering on uncomfortable against my exposed skin. I strain to listen, trying to place where I am. It's a hushed space, the kind that feels expensive. Faint traces of a unique cologne scent the air, one I'm very familiar with. Relief replaces my fear, before my anger rises as I realise who's behind this.

How the fuck did I lose the upper hand here?

To my left, a door opens and closes softly. The air in the space changes, tense and charged. My body vibrates with fury as he approaches. I growl. I can't see him, but I know who he is. Luc Durand. The arrogant, sexy French arsehole who'd become the bane of my existence over the last six months.

He presses up against my back. His breath on my neck, against my ear. "Good evening, Angelica." His deep sexy French accent simultaneously exciting me and grating on my nerves.

"Before we start, I need to apologise for the methods I used to get you here. I knew under the circumstances you'd resist, so I took matters in hand. We've a lot to get through tonight and limited time." I grunt in disapproval, using the only method of communication available at the moment.

He huffs a soft, amused sound as he dominates my personal space. The heat emanating from his fully clothed body is like an electrical charge across my skin, making me break out in gooseflesh. He brushes his very impressive cock against my backside. I'm really pissed at myself for not being able to control my reaction to him.

We've been dancing around this connection and our complicated association for months now. I didn't think he'd have the balls to act on what's been building between us. It had been impossible to get his attention since the day I'd started my internship at his office. It makes me wonder what's changed.

He removes my blindfold. My eyes take a moment to adjust to the dim lighting. I take in the scene before me. Holy shit...

I stare into the mirror in front of me. He's tracking my reaction over my shoulder. Angry desire radiates from him. I can't help reciprocating. My only recourse is to glare daggers at him, letting him know he's a dead man. A slow, wolfish smile appears; his grey eyes are dark. We both know he has the upper hand here, and it leaves a bitter taste in mouth.

He turns his attention to what he sees in the mirror, and I want nothing more than to slap the smugness from his face. My palm itches for it. I growl.

I'm spread open to his gaze, secured to some kind of frame. He's cuffed my wrists and ankles in soft leather; my arms suspended out and up slightly. The item parting my lips is actually a ball gag, which is a smart move on his part as it's preventing me from unleashing on him.

He raises a hand and gently runs his finger down the side of my face and along my neck, "Sublime. Époustouflant. Your body is so beautiful. It's plump and juicy, begging me to make it weep in pleasure, to be violated."

His words, quietly spoken, match the filth in his eyes.

I agree with him, this whole experience is breath-taking, intense. I pull away from his touch, refusing to give him any satisfaction. He huffs again, amused by my attitude.

In the mirror, my full, heavy breasts sway in sync with my movements. Under his gaze, my areolas gather up against extending buds. The slight swell of my belly trembles in angry desire, drawing gazes down to my swollen lips. My parted thighs are wet and in my current position, I can't hide the fact that I'm very aroused. He has my legs spread just enough to make me feel vulnerable and exposed.

Bringing two fingers to his mouth, he makes them wet, before pulling them out and dropping them out of sight. His dark eyes watch for my reaction and I have to look away to gain some control over myself. I don't want to give away that I'm riding a wave of intense lust, strong enough to make my swollen clit throb.

In a move that shocks me, he roughly parts the cheeks of my arse, running his fingers down to rest against my hole. He swirls his wet fingers over my virgin puckered skin before pushing against my back hole.

I can't control my gasp as I pull against the restraints, taut with pleasure and frustration, while his free arm wraps around my middle, securing me against him.

"Has anyone taken you here, Angel?" He strokes and softens the skin around my anus. "Judging by your reaction, I think not. Then this is going to be a very thorough lesson for you, Amante."

I gasp, overcome with sensation. While I've been curious about anal play in the past, I'd never pursued it with any of my previous partners. This man wants to change that. His words paint erotic images in my imagination. The experience stokes the fire between us. It's raw and irresistible and my control slips.

His tone sharpens with conviction. "Tonight is a punishment for the bullshit you pulled today. You will take exactly what I give you." He smacks my arse twice, abrupt and shocking.

I freeze, eyes widening, and I can't hold back my trembling, overstimulated by anger, desire and a little fear. Underneath all of that is confusion. I'm completely thrown off by his behaviour tonight. Luc Durand is meticulous, polite, sophisticated and aloof. The man looking at me with dirty eyes, touching me in the most intimate way, is none of those right now.

"You've been asking for my attention for months Amante, and these are consequences of all your brattish, attention seeking behaviours. You wanted my interest, well now you have it."

His lips brush lightly against my ear, his tongue extends out, running along my lobe. It's a split-second action gone before I can even process it.

I moan. I don't know what I'm supposed to be feeling, but it's an assault on my senses. He nibbles along the exposed skin of my throat, his fingers continuing to rub against my most intimate place. His dark gaze has me trapped in it, equal parts fire and ice. His distinctive sandalwood, vetiver and bergamot cologne washes over me.

I'm losing the battle to keep a clear head. I've underestimated this situation, underestimated him, and the smallest hint of respect for his game skill crosses my mind. I slap it away quickly.

Fuck that and fuck him. Get your head in the game, Angie!

He sees the war in my eyes. "I can read you like a book, Angelica. You think I haven't paid attention, but I have. I've watched you. I've seen how you approach challenges, your strategies, your tells. You and I are quite similar, and we seem to be connected by forces greater than we'd both like to admit to."

I shake my head vigorously. He can get bent.

He laughs. "Denial is not the right move here, pet. It serves no purpose when we both know there's no escape from this powerful draw. I'm forced to put aside my anger at all your childish, selfish bullshit so we can finish it for good. I'm done wasting time playing your games." He pauses, taking in the angry flush stretching across my face and down to my breasts.

He continues, with a smug smile, "Don't worry. I'll make sure that you get exactly what you deserve, what you've been begging for." He steps back, taking his warmth with him.

In the mirror, I can see him staring down at my arse. I whimper. Jesus, what was that? He grabs both cheeks firmly, taking his time to palm them before splitting them apart.

His wolfish smile returns. "You do not know how beautiful you look. If only you could see. Such a tiny, luscious arsehole, so tight and innocent. It'll be both a pity and my absolute pleasure to ruin it."

He taps firmly against my exposed flesh. I jolt away and then he's gone, turning to walk towards a dresser at the back of the room.

Without the weight of his attention on me, I try to calm myself down. I look around the room, taking notice for the first time. We're in a king suite with me in the centre of the room; the large mirror sits several meters in front of me. Behind it, there's a sitting area. To my left is an enormous bed. Looking back into the mirror, I notice a large open ensuite behind me. I can't see any easy opportunities to get out of this mess.

My eyes catch on Luc as he turns back towards me. He's so fucking sexy, which is something I've worked hard to ignore for the last six months. Tonight has stripped away any tolerance I've built up against his appeal and I have to work hard to control my rapid breath, which notches up again as I see he's got a small bag in his hand.

For Fuck's sake, get a grip.

Just like the first time I laid eyes on him, I'm struck by how someone so large can have such grace in the way he moves his body with a quiet, masculine power. His 6'4 frame is broad, toned and flexible, in deference to his age and a testament to his years of MMA training. He's a sleek grey wolf - eyes, hair and trimmed beard, even his suit pants. His crisp white shirt and tanned skin are both a stark contrast.

His shirt lays open, unbuttoned and pulled from the confines of his trousers. He's rolled his sleeves up, exposing thick forearms. His body is stunning, defined by firm abs and pecs, which are lightly covered in trimmed dark hair. It's almost intimidating.

Belt removed, he's undone the button and lowered the zipper on his pants. It's enough for me to catch sight of the neat trail down to his trimmed dark pubic hair, peeking out from below the zipper line.

The outline of his large, thick cock strains against the fabric. It's clear he wants me. It makes my mouth water. He closes the gap between us. I can feel the tension coiled in him, ready to strike. His gaze hardens on me, and the wolf smile returns.

He runs his palm down my back. "It's time, Amante. Admit it. You want what's coming. Look at you. You're panting like a bitch in heat, desperate for it. Fuck, I'm going to enjoy this."

His words trigger my anger and frustration. I can't believe he's won this fight, the one that's been raging silently between us since we first met. I never asked for one, but somehow, he'd made it impossible for me not to engage. I've tried hard to be successful in this internship and build a professional rapport with him, while he hasn't given me an inch.

My entire demeanour changes as I lose control and yell my rage out at him through my gag. It's completely incoherent, but right now, I don't give a damn. I'm fighting him to the end.

He drops the bag at his feet, reaching over to slam our bodies together. I'm set alight by the feeling of hot, smooth skin and silky chest hair. He wedges his cock in the cleft of my arse. Both arms reach up and around me to take my aching breasts in his hands and he squeezes tightly, securing me back against his chest.

Each thumb and forefinger twist my nipples, rolling them like marbles. I throw my head back, arching my neck, and bolts of painful pleasure shoot through me as he sinks his teeth into the join of my neck.

His cock nudges between my cheeks, his fat head pushing at my hole. He starts up a constant pattern of increasing and relenting pressure. He's watching me, the wash of fear, anticipation and red-hot arousal clear on my face. His hands are wicked, squeezing, massaging, and tugging. My clit throbs excitedly and I know I'm close. My tightly coiled desire is overwhelming.

He leans back; I watch as he drops a line of spit down into the crack of my arse, using it to lubricate his cock. He's enjoying this, getting a kick out of the mind fuck before he violates me. Wet now, his cock slides up and down between my cheeks and I know I can't take much more. He stops as suddenly as he started, the meaty cock head now back at my entrance. It's persistently firm, like a brand, ready to stake its claim.

At this moment, I realise an awful truth. This is Check Mate. He owns me and the impact of it tips me into orgasm. It's physical, visceral, psychological. It smashes into me, stripping me of my ability to breathe.

I scream as my body shudders. I feel it gush from me and onto the ground below. My knees buckle, the only things keeping me upright are the cuffs around my wrists and Luc's hands, holding me against his body.

"Delightful, Amante. Perfect."

I'm crying, overcome with the shock of my orgasm; its evidence running down my thighs. I'm also frustrated by my lack of self-control and mortified by my body's sudden and new ability to ejaculate, something it's never done before.

Luc relieves the pressure of his cock against my anus, but resumes the slicing motion between my butt cheeks. He's remorseless and far from done. With a final tweak to my nipples, one hand slides down towards my pussy while the other comes up to my neck. I feel tiny against his hand as he spans my throat with long fingers. I feel the slight flex, a tightening around my jugular before he relaxes his hand. It's a clear reminder of the power dynamic. I have none.

He tilts my head back so that we are cheek to cheek. I look at him in the mirror. Through the tears blurring my vision, I see his arrogant, superior face. I shut my eyes to block him out. He turns my face slightly and I feel his tongue racing up my cheek, tracking my tears.

My labia parts, his other hand reaching its destination. His fingers glide through my folds, rubbing slowly back and forth on either side of my swollen clit. I jerk against my restraints, gasping at the sensation. The remains of my climax are hovering under the surface, ready to rise again.

No one has ever given me back-to-back orgasms. Of course, this overachieving arsehole wants that as well. Amongst everything that's happening, it's weird that I'm struggling with this realisation. He's taking something else from me. I've worked myself up to the edges of an anxiety attack. I'm such a fucking mess; my mind battling with the unavoidable certainty. I'm lost in him and I've lost against him.

"Stop thinking. Take a deep breath and let go."

My eyes fly open, and I realise Luc senses my final struggles. He looks at me, all calm calculation. His hand tightens around my neck, watching as I'm losing my will to fight him. His cock in my cheeks and the fingers surrounding my clit stop moving. He's given me that small momentary grace before he goes in for the kill. The choice to surrender is mine.

His fingers against my clit slowly start their search south. He rubs back and forward along the edges of my opening. I gasp when I hear how wet it sounds. The fat mushroom of his cock pushes against my arsehole again. More pressure than before. His fingers reach the entrance of my vagina, applying the same teasing pressure.

"Angel, this is the endgame, right here. Tonight, I own every inch of your body. I'm going to do what I want whenever I want to."

His cock pushes hard against my rim. "If I want to fuck this tight arse, you will spread your cheeks for me willingly. If I want you to sit on my cock, you'll place yourself on my lap, taking me in whichever hole I choose."

His fingers thrust into my sheath, causing me to cry out and clench myself around the intrusion. In the mirror, I see his hand pressed up against my labia, my wetness dripping from his hand onto the timber floor.

"So fucking wet, so sexy." He whispers in my ear.

I'm hot with lust; my body is flushing pink. I'm whining softly and I rock myself between his hand and the cock wedged against my arsehole, chasing another release. He's so close to breaching me now. I can feel the sting of it.

He continues verbally tormenting me. "Look at you, leaking all over me. Your arse rocking against back my dick. The mess on the floor, evidence of how your body reacts to me as it surrenders, completely under my control." His words hypnotise me, his fingers and cock working their dark magic.

The pressure against my arse is immense. I'm overwhelmed because it's so fucking huge, but I want him to take me. Something inside me snaps. I need him to finish me. My eyes flash at him, black with lust, daring him to take me. I push back hard against his cock and I feel my rim part.

He looks into my eyes, one brow arched then he hardens, choice made. With a final thrust. he breaks through, his fat mushroom breaching my arsehole, just the crown slipping through. I shiver and cry out at the pained pleasure.

"Jesus, you arse is the tightest hole to wrap itself around my cock." Through the haze of my impending orgasm, I see him looking down at his cock as it breaches my hole.

He just stays still while I'm on the verge of hyperventilating. I need more of him! Why is he stopping? I try to push back, bearing down on his cock. He removes his hand from my vagina, gripping my hip firmly, halting progress.

"Stop." I feel another sharp slap against the side of my arse.

My ring tightens up his cock in response. I feel it swell slightly. He leans close to my ear; his quiet words issue a warning. "I'm serious, Angelica. Be still. This is virgin territory. I don't want to hurt you. If you force us into something before you're ready, you'll regret it. Give us a moment."

I nod and try to keep still, but the pressure in my arsehole is immense. I need him to do something before I lose my mind. He looks at me, making a choice. His hand leaves my hip, reaches up to the clip of my ball gag.

"I want to hear you scream my name the next time you come. If I unleash this dirty little mouth, will you promise to be good?" I nod my agreement.

He flicks open the clip on the gag and gently removes it from my face. I flex my jaw and utter my first words all evening.

"Thank you. And also, fuck you." I can't help myself.

He reaches down to smack my pussy in response before sliding back in to coat his fingers. I yelp, then moan at the intrusion.

He brings his fingers to my face, running them along the marks left by the leather strap. He gathers the drool that's collected on my chin, rubbing it across my lips, smearing the rest of my lipstick across my cheek, before slowly inserting them into my mouth.

"Suck Amante. Good girl. Fuck, you're filthy. Perfect for me," he remarks.

I suck heavily, moaning at the taste of the saltiness of his skin mingling with the slickness from my cunt.

He growls, flexing his cock, jostling its head in my arse. Bringing me back to the present.

"Luc, please finish this. I need it. Don't make us wait any longer." I try to keep from sounding like I begging, but it's impossible. It's too close to call.

"Don't push me, Angelica. This is my show, my rules, my timeline. Don't make me gag you again," his tone sharp.

His hand makes its way back down my body, skimming over a sensitive nipple, giving it a good pull before he's back in my cunt again, thrusting three fingers in and out with purpose.

I try to rock against the sensation, but he still has me pinned in place so all I can do is cry out, "Fuck! Fuck me Luc!" I cry out.

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