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(If you haven’t already, do yourself a favor and read Part 1 here:

Continued….

We ran out into the dusty street, headed for a rave in full swing nearby the BDSM Club. We walked inside the a giant glowing dome filled with music and people, laser lights flashing everywhere. As I followed him through the club and we began to dance, I wanted to reach down and touch his ass cheeks, I wanted to feel how hot his skin was on my hand.
We were dancing together now, running my
hands over his chest and back, grinding my hips into his. I took two fingernails and ran them down the length of his backside, testing him, and he cooed at me. Slightly pained, but loving it at the same time.
“You like that?” I asked smiling naughtily at him.
“Fuck yes,” he said nodding eagerly and planting a passionate kiss on my hungry lips. We continued to dance, grinding on each other while kissing on his neck. He grabbed my hand again and quickly led me off the dance floor. As I followed him, I continued to lightly fondle his backside.
Out the back of the Rave we went, finding an abandoned table against the wall of the domed rave, near the street. There were people everywhere, but it was dark and most focused their attention on the entrance.
He spun around to face me. His face hungry looking as his lips came down on me for another hard kiss.
He picked me up by my waist and placed me roughly on the table, and eagerly began planting suckling kisses on my neck and chest. He pushed my white string bikini top apart and began playing with my hard pink nipples. He leaned down to suck on them from time to time while I arched my back, running my hands lightly over her back and ass cheeks, moaning softly in his ear.
He came up for air, “Did you like the show?” He asked me playfully as he began tugging on the strings of my bikini bottoms, the pink tutu still circling my waist.
But before I could answer, his two fingers were already knuckle deep inside me, and i gasped in response to the shock of pleasure.
“Oh you clearly loved it,” he said smiling at me, circling my wet clit with his thumb. I rode his hooked fingers that way until I came, my bikini bottoms still hooked to one leg while I moaned in his ear. If people were watching we didn’t know or care.
After I climaxed, I hurriedly pulled his shorts down past his bruised ass cheeks and hard cock, and used my long legs to pull him closer to me.
That was enough foreplay. He circled the head of his cock along my clit and i moaned.
“Don’t tease me,” I said.
He oblidged, ramming his shaft deep into my pussy. Pumping roughly over and over. I pulled my knees up and leaned back on the table – letting the pleasure wash over me.
“Yesss,” I moaned, cumming very quickly on his cock,bwhile he squeezed my tits in his hands, toying with my nipples.
“Fuck, I’m not going to last.” He was as worked up as I was.
I sat up, reached around, and grabbed his ruined ass cheeks with both hands. He made
a pained and slightly surprised moan as I squeezed, I had never heard anything quite like it. He came while pumping his cock deep inside me a few more times, practically lifting my ass off the table as he climaxed.
We stayed there for a moment, physically hooked to each other, reeling in the moment of pleasure and trying to catch our breath.
It was at that moment I realized a gust of wind had picked up, and to my surprise my white bikini bottoms were no where to be found.
I was completely bottomless with the exception of a tutu, walking home like a shameful little slut with his cum dripping from my exposed pussy. He had a new expression on his face, a devilishly shameful grin as he watched me walk ahead of him.
Even though I applied salve to his cheeks, my partner couldn’t sit down for two days after, and was bruised for a good two weeks – long after we had travelled home to the real world.
It’s funny how when you get a delicious taste for the wicked or the deviant, the memory of it begins to seep into the most mundane parts of your psyche, sparking curiosity and longing in a new way that is both frustrating and refreshing. I didn’t find out that before this trip.
We broke up a few months later. But now, even fifteen years later I still think about that night anytime I see a paddle or a leather strap. Sometimes I wonder if he is still out there playing the role of the naughty sub, and a part of me hopes that if he is, he’s being properly punished for it.

NSFW: yes

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