Hands cuffed behind. Blindfolded. On my knees, which is new. Intriguing.
A push and my face is on the floor. Cold concrete.
Warm hands gripping my cock, soft kisses down my back. Gentleness this time? Tenderness?
Good.
Slow-moving, up and down, painfully slow.
Suddenly the hands are gone. Painfully gone.
One hand on my hip. And then something hard, wet, slippery against my asshole. Searching. Poking.
No.
“Pineapple,” I say.
Both hands grabbing my hips.
“Strawberries. Shit, I forgot.”
Pushing, forcing. Insisting.
“Banana!”
“Asparagus?”
One long thrust. All the way.
Out. In. Out. In.
“Cinnamon,” she whispers, but I knew.
