Story

The Tie Breaker

Gordon Lister could just about see through the gap between the car’s front seats. She had one hand on the steering wheel and the other was pushed down inside the top of her tennis skirt. He couldn’t see her fingers, or make out any noticeable movement other than the rhythmic tensing of the muscles in her arm, but he was absolutely certain that Mrs Kean was masturbating.

For the first ten minutes of their journey she’d had both hands on the wheel, but had spent most of the time either looking back over her shoulder, or glancing at her now-captive tennis partner in the rear view mirror. And each time she’d looked over and down at him, her expression had changed almost imperceptibly from amusement to some sort of smug contentment, to what he could now see reflected in the mirror: a tanned, slightly wrinkled mixture of satisfaction and concentration finding it difficult to drive.

Neither of them had spoken since he’d let her tie him to the handles in the back of her Lexus almost forty minutes ago. She’d been muttering away to herself under her breath, but Gordon couldn’t make out any words, and he hadn’t known what to say. After all, it was shooting his mouth off that had got him into this situation, and that was when he was just going to be a passenger. Now he felt like some sort of voyeur, and he didn’t know how Mrs Kean might react if he interrupted her. So he lay there in silence with his wrists tied above his head onto the support handle above the rear passenger window and with his feet tied to the door handle directly behind the driver’s seat.

It was two weeks since he’d agreed to play tennis with his mother’s friend because her regular partner had pulled a hamstring and the court was pre-paid until the end of the month. “It’ll be nice to play with a man,” Mrs Kean had said, “I’ve not done it for a while”

He’d wondered why she’d seemed to put a little stress on the word ‘play’, but he hadn’t doubted her abilities. She was taller than he was, even without heels, and despite being the same age as his mother, had a figure most women would envy, and every man would admire.

He’d borrowed his mother’s car and met Mrs Kean at the court complex changed and ready to play in his running shoes, shorts and polo shirt and she’d arrived exactly as she was now except for the yellow hair band tightly wrapped around his wrists which two weeks ago had been woven into her shoulder-length grey-blonde hair. She’d been wearing tennis shoes, ankle socks, a loose fitting sport top and pleated skirt ensemble, and what he now considered to be somewhat ironically virginal white underwear which became visible every time she’d reached to make a shot.

She’d won, but only just, and they’d joked about maybe playing for something unspecific the following week. Gordon had laughed that off, but agreed to pick her up at her house in return for her collecting him the week after. It was on the way back to Mrs Kean’s house after he’d won comfortably that she’d said something which Gordon now thought wasn’t as innocent a comment as he’d thought at the time. “Not thinking of driving me anywhere secluded and taking advantage of me are you Gordon? It’s just that you took a wrong turn back there and I’m wearing a very short skirt and you’re obviously a strapping young man who I wouldn’t be able to resist….”

Her voiced had tailed off, and she’d started to smile causing Gordon to briefly wonder if it had been a hint that despite the three-decade difference in their ages she found him in some way attractive before dismissing it as a reference to his presumed superior strength. He’d stuttered a reply “No, no, of course not,” before adding by way of a joke “and I wouldn’t know where to go anyway. I’m not familiar with the area. You’d have to direct me!”

They’d both laughed and Mrs Kean had added that it was good job that she’d be driving her car next week “Just in case…..”

“So it might be me that’s not safe next week then?” Gordon had replied laughing “I’d best not wear these shorts again.”

Mrs Kean had looked at him and joined in the laughter “Flattering ourselves are we? I reckon that if I drove you somewhere secluded you’d be out of that door and running away terrified as soon as I stopped the car.”

Gordon had smiled. He liked flirting with women, and this one, even with a thirty year age gap between them, seemed to enjoy it as well so he’d continued the joke “Well if you think you won’t be able to catch me, you’d better bring some handcuffs or something next week”

Corinne Kean hadn’t responded, making Gordon wonder whether he’d taken the joke just a little too far, so he’d changed the subject to idle gossip about the weather. Now, one week later, she’d collected him from his mother’s as arranged, and as they’d tossed up for ends Corrine Kean had suggested “a small wager.…to …um… add a little something to our game as it’s one each?.”

He’d nodded agreement “Ok. What do you suggest?”

“Best of three sets. Winner gets to take the loser….” Gordon hadn’t let her finish the sentence. “So if I win I get to take you to the movies or a restaurant or something? And if you win you take me? Sounds like the winner will be doing the paying!” Gordon had laughed, “But I suppose as the winner gets to choose, it could be KFC! It’s a deal!”

Mrs Kean had grinned back at him. “Agreed. You win and you take me somewhere of your choosing. And if I win I get to take you.”

Gordon had quickly realized that Mrs Kean was a far better player than she’d looked on either of the previous weeks. She’d beaten him 6-3, 6-2 in a little over an hour and as they’d shaken hands had said “Well, I won. You haven’t made any plans for the rest of the day have you?”

Gordon had replied with his hands outstretched, joking “Not at all, but I only agreed that you could take me somewhere, not that I wouldn’t run away as soon as we got there. So if you want to make sure that I can’t…” The expression on her face had changed at that moment from happy, confident and relaxed to what he thought had looked angry and insulted. His joke didn’t appear to have been appreciated.

“I didn’t bring any handcuffs Gordon.” She’d said very matter-of-factly.

“You can always improvise” he’d replied with a big grin in an attempt to lighten the mood.

That was when she’d removed the two-foot long band from her hair, tied it round his wrists, led him to her car, opened one of the rear doors, gently pushed him onto the back seat, and tied him to the handle above the window. Then, without speaking, she’d reached across and slid his legs up out from under the front passenger seat, unfastened the bows on his shoelaces, knotted them together and then used what was left over to tie his feet onto the far armrest.

She’d then gone round to the front and sat in the driver’s seat without speaking, started the car and driven off in a different direction to one they’d come from 90 minutes earlier.

She’d started to finger herself after ten minutes, moaning after twenty, sweating after thirty, and now forty minutes after the journey had started her shoulders were shaking and her head was beginning to jerk from side to side.

Gordon was about to speak when the car came to a sudden halt and Mrs Kean climbed between the front seats, pulled his shorts and boxers down to his knees with her right hand and put the index finger of her left to his lips. “Shhhhh”.

She then flipped her skirt up and grabbed the inside of her sodden sport pants at the top of her inner thigh, and pulled them to one side before straddling Gordon Lister and pushing the erection he’d had for the last thirty minutes deep inside her.

Her orgasm was almost instant. She held on to his upper arms and shuddered with such force that his head battered against the door’s window mechanism and the binding on his wrists began to cut into him.

He’d never felt anything like that orgasm. It was so intense, so passionate, so animalistic.

She paused for breath before slowly lifting herself up and off him, leaving him exhausted and extremely frustrated. He’d never felt anything like the intensity of the near-orgasm pressurizing his lower stomach, all round his lower body and right to the tip of his penis.

“I suppose you want me to do something about this?” she said leaning backwards and rubbing the tip of his erection while grinning like the Cheshire cat in the Lewis Carroll story.

He nodded. Too stunned to speak, but not really knowing what he ought to say if he could.

“Well don’t look at me like that.” Said Mrs Evans, shaking her head. “You suggested that I tie you up, and our wager was that if I won I got to take you. No mention of movies or anything. Just take you. I like my sex with me in complete control you see Gordon. I was thinking about driving back to mine, and then, well, just ripping your shirt off and seeing what happened, but seeing you all trussed up like that…. like this…. well it got me so turned on that….well I just couldn’t help myself. I’ve never had a helpless man in the back of my car before, on my bed yes, but not in my car, and somehow the power of being able to do whatever I wanted, made me…… so excited that I did ….um…. well, whatever I wanted.” She started laughing loudly and began to gently stroke the end of his penis “and if you want me to do something about this” she said licking her finger and stroking him again “we really need to  …..um… negotiate. Your satisfaction wasn’t part of the deal. Only mine…..”

Please Mrs Kean. Don’t leave me like this. I’ll do anything!!.” He pleaded.

Corinne Kean smiled. “Anything Gordon? Promise?”

“Absolutely. Anything you want Mrs Kean, but pleaaasseeee……..!”

“Are you sure Gordon? Don’t you even want to negotiate? Not that you’re really in any position to…..”She didn’t finish whatever it was she was in the middle of saying, but leant forward, ran her tongue around the tip of his erection and then put her lips around it and began to suck.

Anything Mrs Kean,” He groaned, “Absolutely anything. You decide…..”

Corinne Kean slowly lifted her head, and playfully licked him in between each word as she very deliberately said “I….. Like…. Doing ….This… So ….How ….About ….You …. Let…. Me…. Tie…. You…. Up…. Every …Sunday…. Back…. At … My … Place…. Instead … Of …. Playing …Tennis?”

Gordon Lister immediately surrendered. “You can do whatever you want….” He whispered kicking off his shoes so that they dangled from the arm rest while slowly pulling the flimsy material of the hair band apart “and if you’d rather use something stronger than a hair band…. “

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s