And my boobs are flying free

of
genre
bondage

My friend owns a beachfront vacation home that she pays for by listing it on Airbnb when it’s vacant. I jokingly call her a rich bitch, but it’s purely out of jealousy. My envy is curbed by her generosity in letting me use it whenever I please, granted it’s not booked.

I recently purchased a sexy maid lingerie (Amazon’s words, not mine) and am dying to take photos in it. I call her to ask if her place is available today and she assures me that it is. I can hear in her voice she’s holding back something: possibly laughter, since she knows why I want to go, but I assume it’s a moan. It wouldn’t be the first time she talked to me on the phone while someone is licking her pussy.

My usual photographer (a.k.a. my husband) is away so I’m on my own to take the photos. Before heading out, I grab a few props and any necessary accessories for my phone, such as a tripod and a camera remote.

It’s 89 degrees out, so I don’t bother putting anything on over my maid outfit. My neighbor doesn’t seem to mind as he stares intensely, watching my tits bounce as I strut to the car. He attempts a wave, but I can tell he’d rather be putting his hand on his cock. I shoot him a wink before getting in my car.

A short trip later, I arrive at the house with my arms full, struggling to enter the code on the door lock. It opens, I fumble inside and am instantly startled by a man’s voice. I’m unable to hear what he is saying over the sound of me shrieking an expletive or two.

My excitement is eased by the view of a rather handsome man, wearing nothing but oh-so-short swimming trunks. My first thought is, one wrong move and his dick will fall out, followed by the realization that my rich bitch friend knew he was here all along and thought it’d be funny.

Before I have time to be angry, the man speaks again.

“You must be the maid. I’m sorry, I didn’t think checkout was for another couple of hours.”

Shocked, my mind begins to race.

Does he really think I’m the maid? I guess this is the beach, so this might not be completely out of hand for a maid’s attire. Okay, yes it is, but he’s buying it…or at least pretending to.

Uncomfortable with my silence, he speaks again.

“You’re welcome to come in and clean though. I’m just going to shower and I’ll be out of your hair.”

Though I wouldn’t mind having his hands in my hair, I play it cool. I could leave and come back later, but I don’t want to miss the great lighting this morning.

“Thank you, I’ll start with the upstairs, so you won’t even know I’m here,” I reply.

“Do you need help carrying anything?”

“Nope, I think I got it,” I say as I scurry upstairs.

I glance back and catch him looking up my skirt. I smile to let him know it’s okay. Honestly, I’m just glad he was too focused on the skimpy outfit to notice my lack of cleaning supplies.

The beautiful morning glow is fading fast, so I work quickly to get set up. I place my phone on the tripod and angle it outside toward the balcony. I grab my pink fuzzy handcuffs from my bag and attach one to my right wrist. I securely place the key to the cuffs in one hand, and the camera remote in the other.

I step out onto the balcony and twirl around, letting my skirt fly for a good eyeful of my panties, taking photos in the process. Though there’s not much undergarment to see, as my (dare I say juicy) rump nearly swallows them whole.

I press my boobs together and tease a flash, stopping just below my nipples. I give the remote a few presses, each time hearing the sound of a click on my phone as if it’s replicating a shutter. I bend over the balcony, looping the remaining handcuff through one of the bars, and lock it onto my other wrist. Click. I play as if I can’t get out, giving the expression of a scared, innocent girl. Click, click, click.

Ready to move on to the next prop, I reach for the key to unlock myself. I am once again startled by the guest, causing me to drop both the key and the remote.

“Are you okay? Do you need help?”

I can’t turn around to face him, which is probably for the best because I’m far too embarrassed to face him. The cheeks on my face are as red as the ones on my behind after a good spanking.

I can only imagine his view right now as I respond, “I’ll explain everything later, but I dropped the key to my handcuffs in the bushes below. Could you find it for me?”

I don’t bother mentioning the remote. At this point, I just want to get out of these cuffs.

“Alright, I’ll go look,” he replies before rushing outside.

Rifling through the bushes he struggles to find anything. During my own struggles, I can feel my tits slowly sliding out of my top. Right as the guest looks up at me to tell me he can’t find anything, my breasts spill out, bouncing almost comically as if I were an anime character. The guest tries to act respectfully, before telling me to wait as he runs back inside.

In the room behind me now, he calmly says, “Okay, we’re going to have to try and break it loose.”

The guest gets behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist as he begins pulling me. With each tug I can feel his dick getting harder and harder, rubbing against my clit. I begin having mixed emotions as to whether I should be panicking or aroused. I choose the latter.

I continue to let him tug on me as I purposely press against his cock, which has now unsurfaced from the bottom of the trunks he’s wearing.

My panties are starting to feel like a nuisance, so I ask, “Would you mind removing my undies…you know, so I could be less restricted.”

He clears his thought before responding, “Oh, yeah, if you think that will help. Sure.”

Though his voice seems timid, his actions do not. He nearly rips my underwear off my body, tossing them off the balcony. Seconds later, I see his shorts follow not too far behind.

He grabs me from behind again, but this time with different intentions. I feel his member rubbing against my neatly trimmed landing strip.

“You won’t find the key in that bush,” I say coyly.

He laughs but chooses to reply by gently inserting his shaft into my pussy. I’m glad for the slow insertion: the girth of his cock damn near feels like a Pringles can inside me.

He gradually quickens the pace like a steam locomotive picking up momentum. The faster he goes, the harder his thrusts, making his body feel like a train slamming against my caboose.

He hits his stride, causing my tits to sway rhythmically over the rails of the balcony. Click.

“What…the…fuck?” I blurt out, having to speak in between each drive of his shaft.

Not slowing down, he manages to catch enough breath to say, “I found it in the bushes,” click, “guess what else I found?”

I already know the answer. I manage to turn my head around enough to see him wave the key. Click, click, click.

“You…fucking,” my speech is interrupted by the tug of my hair, jerking my head back. Click, click.

I want to be mad, but I’m not. I’m being railed on the rails of a beachfront balcony with a beautiful view, and a stout cock in my pussy…what’s not to like?

The sensation of my surroundings and current situation hit me all at once. I begin to come, flooding his dick as I moan uncomfortably loud for being outdoors. Click, click, click.

My body shivers with ecstasy as a small object is placed on my back. As he withdraws, I realize he has set the key down to stroke himself. Seconds later, I feel his come land all over my back, some making it onto my hair. Click, click, click, click, click.

Slumped over the rails, I look past my large breasts nearly slapping my face to see him standing next to me as his cock is still dripping. He bends down to place the key in my hand, and it’s drenched with come. I work it into the lock and undo the left handcuff as I stand up to stretch.

I turn around to tell him thanks for the wonderful time, but he’s gone. My back is covered in his sperm and I’d hate to explain the stains on the carpet, so I slip off my skirt, using it as a towel before heading inside.

By the time I make it downstairs, I see the front door closing. I rush out to see if I can catch him, but before I am able to step outside I am frozen by the look of an old man walking his dog. In my haste, I must have forgotten that my tits are out and I’m naked from the waist down.

Oh well. I guess he takes check-out times pretty seriously, I think as I close the door and head back up the stairs. I grab my phone and scroll through the pictures, sending a few to my friend.

“He has come and gone,” I text, knowing she would pick up on the innuendo.

I retrieve my panties from the balcony, place my boobs back into their holsters, and head out to the beach, letting the ocean wash away the remnants of a sticky, yet enjoyable, situation.

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written on
2023-02-03
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