We Didn't Start The Fire

Minnie's got the boy tied down tight, and I'm about to show her how to stretch him out until he's begging. His cock twitches against his will, a bead of pre-cum sliding down the head before either of us gives permission. We lock eyes and decide he's earned it. Our hands move fast, rough strokes mixed with feather-light touches that bring him right to the edge then yank him back. The moment his balls tighten we back off, watch him throb in empty air. One more round and he cracks, spurting hard across his own stomach. Before the last pulse finishes we both jump onto the mattress, bare feet crushing down on his still-spurting dick, grinding the mess into his skin. He jerks and gasps but the ropes hold. We don't stop. Fingernails drag over the tender head, palms slap the shaft while it's soft and leaking, every touch twisting pleasure into sharp, mean aftershocks that make his whole body shake.