Innocent gets tied up and fucked for the first time! – Hot amateur video

Title: The Inevitably Naughty Ride on the First Bondage Rodeo

The sun had barely begun to crest the horizon when there was a knock at the door. A young woman, say early 20’s, with a body like a spinner and an ass like a Phoebe Bridgers album cover, opened the door in a bathrobe, hair a tangled mess. Before her stood a tall, muscled man, shirtless, with abs like a six pack of domestic beer. He smiled deviously, one eyebrow quirked.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” he said, shouldering past her into the apartment. “Did you miss me?”

“What do you want, Antonio?” she asked, closing the door and tying her robe tighter. “I’m still mad at you for dipping out last week.”

He walked over to the window and opened the blinds, letting a rectangle of warmth fall across the hardwood floor. “I was just trying to teach you a lesson about tardiness, mi amor. In my country, particular if you arrive late, there are customs…”

She followed him into the room, eyeing him suspiciously. “Like what? Is this some kind of tango thing?”

Antonio laughed, running a hand through his black hair. “Ah, you Americans. You have no idea the ways of our culture. But perhaps, if you behave yourself today, I will show you…”

He reached into a duffel bag on the floor and withdrew a coil of thick rope. “But first, you must submit yourself to me. Sí?”

The woman’s eyes went wide as saucers, staring at the rope. “You’re joking, right? I’m not getting tied up, Antonio.”

“Oh, but you will, mi dulce. It’s for your own good. So that next time, you’ll remember to be on time.” He took a step towards her.

She backed away, hands up. “I said no! I don’t know what kind of freak shit you’re into down in Argentina, but I’m not into it!”

Antonio smiled, eyes gleaming. “On the contrary, it’s the most peaceful, natural state to be in. Like a sloth in a furrow of a mango tree. Here, let me show you…”

He lunged forward and grabbed her arm. She screamed and struggled, but he was stronger. He pulled her close and kissed her roughly on the mouth. She continued to cry out and push against him, but she couldn’t break free. Then he was pushing her down onto the bed, astride her.

“Ssh, mi amor,” he said, stroking her hair. “This doesn’t have to hurt. Just relax.”

“No, please,” she said, voice shaking. “Don’t do this…”

But it was too late. He had already looped the rope around her wrists and cinched it tight. She pulled against it and found herself unable to move.

“There now,” he said, admiring his handiwork. “See? Not so bad, sí? But we’re just getting started.”

He moved to her ankles, looping the rope and tying it with a complicated knot. He pulled on it, tester, and she felt herself stretched out uncomfortably on the bed.

“Please,” she whimpered. “Stop…”

But the only response was the creak of the bedsprings as he climbed on top of her. His weight pressed down against her, his hardness pushing inside. She cried out at the intrusion, trying to squirm away.

“Mmm…you feel so good,” he said as he began to move. “Like a warm, wet pussycat.”

“Oh God,” she gasped. “Help…”

He just laughed and pushed deeper, teasing her lips with his tongue. She felt like she was being split apart, her body not made for this much man. It was like an invasive species disturbing the delicate microclimate of places that should never have been touched by another human.

“Shh, just breathe,” he said as he rocked into her flesh. “And let it happen. Give yourself over to the hands of destiny.”

She thrashed and sobbed, feeling helpless and hopeless. This was wrong, so wrong. But as he continued his relentless thrusting, pushing her boundaries and stretching her to the limit, she felt something shift. The room seemed to tilt. A feeling of weightlessness overtook her as if she was floating on a warm ocean current.

The aches and pains began to recede, replaced by a sense of euphoria, of really letting herself go for the first time. She stopped fighting and surrendered to the rhythm, moaning with each delicious push and pull against her eager flesh.

“Yesss,” he hissed, sensing the change. “That’s it. Surrender to the flow. Yield to my will…”

They moved as one, a primal dance older than language. Her body opened like a flower, petals unfurling in the heat of the day, quivering and tight and offering, making no distinction between thrust and caress.

Her pleasure mounted, cresting higher than the highest wave. Antonio made a slurping sound as her body gripped him fiercely, locking him inside. The wetness gushed out, drenching them both.

“Fuuuck,” he said breathlessly. “Fuuuck.”

He finished with a series of hard, driving thrusts as she lay boneless beneath him, splayed out like a starfish on a sun-warmed rock. Spent, he collapsed next to her, an arm draped possessively across her torso, panting.

And there they remained, still bound, bodies slick and satisfied as the morning sun made its lazy way across the room. She stared at the ceiling, drifting in the afterglow, aware of the weight of his arm and the residual stretch of her angled limbs.

A tiny, disloyal bubble of arousal percolated in her center at the thought of maybe, possibly, doing this again sometime. Other people really did fall for this shit. Who knew?

Antonio stirred beside her, a handwandering down her stomach to cup her wet folds possessively. “You see, mi amor?” he said, voice heavy with arrogance and satisfaction. “What did I tell you? Sometimes, you just have to let go and trust.”

She sighed, half in annoyance, half in trepidation at her own weakness. She knew she was just opening herself up to getting hurt again. She should push him away, kick him out, never let him tie her up like this again. But the coil of heat already beginning to build beneath his touch made the decision for her.

“Fuck it,” she muttered, reaching down and squeezing him back. “Saddle up, cowboy.”

And the bondage rodeo continued, long into the afternoon.