Tom and Nat Try Self-Defense Together

This is a sequel to a previous story called: Tom and Nat Talk about Self-Defense

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Tom stumbled into the dimly lit gym, his heart racing and his palms sweating. He had never been one for crowds, especially not crowds of fit, fiery-eyed women dressed in skin-tight outfits. The echoes of their chatter bounced off the walls, a cacophony of excitement and anticipation that made his stomach twist. He was here for the self-defense class, something Nat had talked about earlier that week. The conversation had been intense, her words like a dance that had led him to this moment.

The gym floor was a sea of pink and black spandex, as the girls stretched and chatted among themselves. Each one a vision of strength and sensuality, they moved with a grace that seemed almost predatory. Their eyes, when they looked his way, held a challenge, a promise of power and a hint of something darker that sent shivers down his spine. They were all here for the same reason, but Tom felt like he was the one on display, the prize in some twisted game.

The chatter grew muted as the instructor, Alice, strutted into the room. She was a vision of confidence, her long legs moving with a fluidity that was almost hypnotic. Her hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, showcasing the sharp lines of her jaw and the smoldering intensity in her eyes. The whistle around her neck bobbed with each step, the silver glinting under the harsh gym lights. She was dressed in a skin-tight outfit that left nothing to the imagination, a stark contrast to the padded armor that the male volunteers were forced to wear. Her toned abs rippled as she stretched, the fabric of her top clinging to her curves in a way that made Tom's mouth go dry.

With a sharp clap of her hands, the room fell silent. "Alright, girls," she said, her voice a velvety purr that seemed to wrap around each word, "finish your stretches. We're going to get started."

Alice's eyes swept over the male volunteers, lingering on Tom's trembling form. "You're all here to learn," she began, her voice echoing through the space, "but these men are here for a different kind of education. They're going to experience firsthand what it feels like to be at the mercy of a woman." A smirk played at the corners of her mouth as she approached the first male volunteer, a burly man with a neck as thick as a tree trunk. She produced a length of rope, and with swift, efficient movements, she bound his wrists and ankles to the pole behind him.

Next, she moved on to Tom, her gaze lingering on his crotch as she secured his arms to the pole, the ropes biting into his skin. His legs were spread wide, his knees slightly bent, forcing him into a position of complete vulnerability. The padding on his body made him feel like a marshmallow man, all soft and yielding except for the tight boxers that encased his growing arousal. His breath hitched as she knelt before him, tying his ankles to the base of the pole.

The room grew hot, the scent of sweat and adrenaline thick in the air. Alice's breasts brushed against his thighs as she worked, sending waves of heat through his body. The other girls watched with hungry eyes, whispering to each other as they took in the sight of him, bound and exposed. Nat was among them, a knowing smile playing on her lips as she observed his predicament.

Alice moved from Tom to the next volunteer, her hips swaying with each step. She bound him with the same expert precision, her movements deliberate and sensual. Each time she bent down to tie a knot, her ass would wiggle teasingly, and Tom couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy mixed with his arousal. His eyes followed her, drinking in the curve of her spine and the muscles in her arms as she worked.

The other males were bound in various stages of discomfort, their faces a mix of apprehension and excitement. Their crotches were on full display, and Tom could see the beginnings of arousal in some of them. The room had shifted from a space of power and authority to one of tension and undeniable sexual energy.

Alice turned to face the group of girls, her voice commanding their attention. "Tonight, as usual, we're going to focus on the most effective way to incapacitate an attacker," she said, her eyes gleaming with a sadistic glint. "And that, my lovelies, is through their weakest point: their balls." The girls giggled and murmured in agreement, their eyes lighting up with the promise of the power they were about to be taught.

"Now, the first rule," Alice began, pacing in front of them like a panther ready to pounce, "is to always aim true. You want to hit hard and fast, like you're throwing a dart at the bullseye. Don't let them see it coming." She demonstrated, her hand a blur as it shot out to tap the crotch of the nearest male volunteer. He winced, his cheeks flushing a deep red. "You see?" she said, smiling sweetly, "Surprise is key."

The room grew quiet as she continued her lecture, her voice a soft echo that had all the girls leaning in. "There are several ways to do this," she explained, holding up a hand and counting on her fingers. "First, the classic kick. You want to use the flat of your foot, not the toes, and aim for the base of the scrotum." She paused, letting the words hang in the air like a challenge. "It'll drop them like a stone."

Her gaze raked over the bound men, lingering on Tom's straining erection. "The second technique," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper, "is the grab and twist. You'll need to get up close for this one, but it's incredibly effective." She demonstrated, her hand wrapping around an invisible set of testicles before giving an exaggerated twist. The men winced in unison, and Tom felt a cold bead of sweat trickle down his back.

"But my personal favorite," Alice purred, "is the knee to the groin. It's swift, it's brutal, and it's oh-so-satisfying." She strutted over to the male volunteer with the thick neck, placing one hand on his shoulder for balance. With surprising speed, she drove her knee into his crotch. He buckled, his face contorting in pain, a grunt escaping his lips. The room erupted in laughter and applause, the girls' eyes alight with excitement.

Tom's heart raced as he watched Alice move from one man to the next, explaining the techniques with the same enthusiasm a chef might reserve for their favorite recipe. Each demonstration brought him closer and closer to the edge of his endurance. He could feel the pressure building in his balls, his cock straining against the fabric of his boxers. The mere thought of Nat's hand on him, her leg connecting with his crotch, was almost too much to bear.

"Now, for the last method," Alice said, her eyes sparkling with mischief, "the elbow strike. This one's a bit more advanced, but lethal. With a graceful twirl, Alice faced Tom, her elbow cocked and aimed directly at his exposed crotch. "You want to keep your elbow tucked in tight, like this," she demonstrated, her arm moving in a swift arc just inches away from his groin, "and then, with all the force you've got, you slam it into the attacker's balls. Her words barely registered in Tom's brain, his focus solely on the elbow that hovered precariously close. He could feel the heat of her body, her breath on his skin, and his arousal grew even as fear coiled in his gut. Without warning, Alice's elbow shot out, connecting with his balls with a sickening thwack. The world exploded in a burst of pain and pleasure, the impact sending shockwaves through his body. He tried to shout, but the air was forced from his lungs, leaving him gasping for breath.

The girls watched with rapt attention, their eyes wide as they took in the display. Some had their hands over their mouths, stifling giggles, while others nodded in solemn understanding. Nat, however, had a different expression on her face. She was watching him closely, her eyes dark with something that looked a lot like desire.

"You see, gentlemen," Alice said, her voice dripping with sweetness, "these berries are the key to your downfall. And these lovely ladies are going to learn how to use them to their advantage." She winked at the group, and the girls giggled again, their eyes sparkling with mischief.

Tom felt Nat's gaze on him, heavy and filled with something he couldn't quite read. Was it excitement? Curiosity? He didn't know, but it was driving him wild. He could feel his cock pulse with every beat of his heart, begging for release. The pain from the elbow strike was already fading, replaced by a dull throb that was oddly arousing.

Alice stepped back, surveying her handiwork. "Alright, girls," she said, her eyes raking over the male volunteers, "now it's your turn to practice. Remember, safety first, but don't hold back."

The room was a flurry of movement as the girls paired off, their eyes gleaming with excitement. Nat, her cheeks flushed and her breath shallow, made her way to Tom. The sight of her in her tight, form-fitting outfit, her eyes sparkling with a mix of challenge and desire, was almost too much for him. She stopped in front of him, her hand resting lightly on his padded chest, and his cock throbbed in response.

"Ready to get those balls of yours crushed?" she whispered, her voice a seductive caress that sent shivers down his spine. The question was loaded, filled with the promise of both pain and pleasure. Tom swallowed hard, nodding as he met her gaze. He couldn't believe he was actually here, about to be on the receiving end of a self-defense lesson that was rapidly turning into a twisted form of foreplay.

The other pairs began their practice, the sound of muffled thumps and grunts filling the air. Each hit was met with a chorus of laughter and cheers from the girls, their excitement palpable. Tom watched, his eyes flicking from Nat to the others, his arousal growing as he saw the men squirm and wince. It was a strange mix of empathy and excitement, a thrill that was as confusing as it was exhilarating.

Alice's voice cut through the din, reminding them of the gravity of the situation. "Remember, ladies," she called out, her eyes scanning the room, "when you go for the balls, you're not just causing pain. You're taking away their power. It's a statement, a declaration that you're not someone to be fucked with." Her words hung in the air, a dark promise that sent a shiver down Tom's spine.

Nat stepped closer, her hand sliding down to grip the rope that held Tom's wrists. She leaned in, her breath warm against his ear, and whispered, "You're going to cum for me, aren't you?" Her voice was low, a seductive challenge that sent a jolt of electricity through his body. He could feel his balls tighten in anticipation, his cock straining against the confines of his boxers.

With a smirk, Nat took a step back and took a deep breath, her leg swinging up in a high arc. The first kick was a gentle tease, her foot barely grazing the fabric of his underwear. Tom's breath hitched, the sensation sending a bolt of pleasure through him. The second kick was firmer, the impact making him grunt, his eyes watering. The girls around them watched with eager anticipation, some of them mimicking Nat's movements as they practiced on their own bound partners.

Tom's eyes were glued to Nat's body, the outline of her underwear clearly visible through the spandex. He could see the curve of her panties, the way they hugged the contours of her sex. Each kick she delivered was a symphony of agony and ecstasy, a dance of power and submission that had him on the edge.

"Now," Nat said, her voice a sultry purr that sent a shiver down Tom's spine, "Let's try something new." She took a step back, her leg cocked at an angle. "I've always liked the knee to the groin technique," she mused, eyeing his exposed crotch with a predatory glint. Tom's heart raced as Nat approached, the anticipation of her next move making his cock throb painfully against the confines of his boxers. He watched her, his eyes locked on the juncture of her thighs, as she took a deep breath and stepped closer. With a swift, deliberate motion, Nat brought her knee up, the force of her leg meeting his balls with a sickening crunch. The impact was like a bolt of lightning, the pain so intense that Tom's vision swam. He let out a strangled cry, his body spasming against the ropes that held him in place. The room spun around him, the laughter and chatter of the other girls fading into a distant buzz.

Alice's voice pierced through the haze, a cool and collected applause. "Very good, Nat," she said, strolling over to them with a wicked smile. "But let me show you how it's really done." Her eyes danced with approval as she placed a hand on Nat's hip, guiding her into the perfect position. "You need to be closer," she instructed, her breath warm against Nat's ear. "And aim for the sweet spot, just behind the testicles." Nat nodded, her eyes gleaming with excitement. With Alice's hand on her back, she leaned in, her knee connecting with Tom's groin with a force that made his legs tremble. The pain was exquisite, which sent waves of pleasure rushing through him.

Tom's vision blurred as Nat delivered blow after blow, each one more precise and powerful than the last. The sound of her knee smacking against his balls was like a drumbeat, a rhythm that seemed to resonate with the very core of his being. He could feel the other men's pain, a symphony of grunts and gasps that filled the air. The room was a blur of movement, a dance of power and dominance that was both terrifying and intoxicating.

But amidst the chaos, Tom's focus was singular: Nat's bouncing breasts. With every strike, they swayed and jiggled, a mesmerizing sight that seemed to pulse in time with the throbbing ache in his own groin. He couldn't tear his eyes away from them, the tight fabric of her top straining with each breath she took. The pain was a strange kind of ecstasy, a symphony of sensation that had his cock straining against his boxers, desperate for release.

Alice's voice brought him back to reality, the sound of her clap echoing through the room like a gunshot. "Alright, girls," she said, her eyes gleaming with sadistic excitement, "now it's time for the grand finale. You're going to show us what you've learned." The room fell silent, the only sounds the heavy breathing of the males and the expectant whispers of the females.

"The last technique," Alice announced, "is the testicle squeeze. It's simple, effective, and incredibly painful." She demonstrated, her hand curling into a fist and squeezing an invisible set of balls. "You want to grip firmly, but not too hard at first. You're playing with them like a cat with a mouse, building the tension before the kill." The men paled, their eyes wide with fear and anticipation.

Tom watched as Nat stepped closer, her hand reaching out to cup his balls through the thin fabric of his boxers. The sensation was electric, a mix of terror and desire that had him panting. He felt her fingers tighten, the pressure increasing with each second. He could see the focus in her eyes, the determination to do well in this twisted game.

Alice moved from pair to pair, giving personalized tips and praise. When she reached Nat and Tom, she leaned in, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "Remember, Nat," she whispered, her breath hot against Nat's ear, "you want to squeeze just right. Not too hard to cause permanent damage, but hard enough to make them beg for mercy."

Nat nodded, her grip tightening slightly. Tom's eyes rolled back in his head as she began to apply the technique, her fingers moving in a rhythmic, squeezing motion. The pain was intense, but there was something about the way Nat's eyes lit up with each grimace he made that had him on the edge of orgasm. His cock was a rock, desperate for release, and he knew it wouldn't be long before he came.

Around them, the other girls were equally engaged with their partners. He caught glimpses of their faces as they focused on the task at hand, a mix of determination and excitement. Some were tentative at first, their grips unsure, but with Alice's guidance, they grew bolder. One by one, the men's cries grew louder, their bodies jerking and straining against their restraints. The sight was almost too much to handle, a visual feast of power and pleasure that had him on the brink. The first to crack was a young man with a mop of blond hair. His cries grew more desperate with each squeeze from his partner's hand, his face reddening until he was all but screaming. "Mercy," he gasped, his voice high-pitched and strained. "Please, I can't take it." The girl, a petite brunette, only squeezed harder, her eyes alight with a fierce satisfaction that made Tom's cock throb even more. Another volunteer, a man with a goatee and arms like tree trunks, was next. His eyes were squeezed shut, his teeth gritted as a redheaded beauty worked his balls over. "God," he groaned, "please, no more. It hurts so fucking much." But she was relentless, her hand moving in a slow, methodical rhythm that made him writhe in agony. His begging grew more desperate with each passing moment, his pleas for mercy echoing through the room like a mournful hymn. Tom couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of fear at the sight of the men's suffering. It was as if they were paying a penance for the sins of their gender, and the girls were the avenging angels meting out their punishment. Each whimper, each gasp for air, was a testament to the power that Nat and the others held over them. And yet, as he felt Nat's grip tighten, the pain morphing into something almost unbearable, he found himself begging alongside them. "Please," he whispered, his voice hoarse from the ropes around his neck. "Please, Nat, I can't...it's too much."

Her eyes met his, and in that moment, he saw a flash of something primal, something that sent a shiver down his spine. It was the look of a predator that had found its prey, a creature that knew it held all the cards. "You want me to stop?" she asked, her voice a low purr. "You want me to spare you this humiliation?" Tom nodded frantically, his body trembling with the effort of not coming. The pressure in his balls was unbearable, the need for release an all-consuming force. But Nat only tightened her grip, a wicked smile playing on her lips. "Not yet," she murmured, her eyes never leaving his. "You're going to cum for me, Tom. And when you do, it's going to be in front of all these girls, with your dick straining and your balls on fire." The thought was too much, the reality of the situation crashing down on him like a wave. He was going to orgasm in a room full of people, bound and helpless, with Nat's hand on his balls. The idea was both terrifying and incredibly arousing.

 Meanwhile, Alice moved through the room, basking in the symphony of male agony, their voices hoarse with pain and desperation. "Please, not my nuts," one man whimpered. "I can't take it," another groaned, his body convulsing with each squeeze. "My balls, please," a third pleaded, his eyes squeezed shut as if that could somehow lessen the pain. The words filled the air, a chorus of suffering that was music to Alice's ears. She reveled in their vulnerability, their complete and utter powerlessness. It was a heady feeling, one she never tired of.

The first to break was the blond man, his body spasming as his cock erupted in a spray of cum. The brunette holding him let out a squeal of delight, her grip on his balls never loosening as she watched him squirt his release into is tight boxers. The sight set off a chain reaction, the other men's arousal becoming palpable, their cocks straining against their confinements. The redhead's partner, the man with the goatee, was next. His body bucked and writhed, his face a mask of pain and pleasure as he came, his balls pulsing under her unyielding grip. The brunette next to them giggled, watching the sticky white liquid dribble down his thighs.

Tom's eyes widened, his cock begging for the same sweet release. Nat's hand never faltered, her grip unyielding as she watched the scene unfold before them. Her eyes held a glint of triumph, her mouth a thin line of concentration as she worked him closer to the edge. He could feel the pressure building, his balls tightening with each passing second. "Nat," he gasped, "I can't hold it much longer."

The room was a symphony of pain and pleasure, the air thick with the scent of sweat and arousal. The other males' cries grew more desperate as their orgasms approached. One by one, they succumbed to the relentless squeeze of their partners' hands, their bodies jerking and spasming as they released their seed into the confines of their underwear. The sight was a strange mix of humiliation and excitement, each man's climax a silent testament to the power the girls wielded over them. The room echoed with the sound of fabric straining against hardened flesh, the occasional wet splat as cum spurted out to stain the floor.

As the last of the men shot his load in defeat, the room grew still, the only sound the heavy breathing of the participants. All eyes turned to Tom, his body taut with tension, and Nat, her hand still firmly gripping his balls. She leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear, and whispered, "You're the last one, Tom. I want everyone to see you cum for me." The words sent a jolt of electricity through him, his cock pulsing in response. He could feel the heat of her breath, the warmth of her body, as she held him in her thrall. Some of the girls, having finished with their partners, had gathered around, watching him with a mix of fascination and cruel amusement. They knew he was close, and they weren't about to let him off easy. They began to taunt him, teasing him with their curves. One blonde bent over, her ass high in the air, giving him a clear view of her tight, round cheeks. A brunette leaned against a nearby wall, her breasts pushed up and out by the sports bra she wore, her nipples clearly visible through the fabric. A redhead strutted closer, her hips swaying seductively as she gave him a knowing smile. Each girl offered him a glimpse of their bodies, a tantalizing display that only added to his torment.

Tom tried to focus on anything but the pain in his groin, his eyes darting around the room in a desperate search for relief. He found it in Nat's bra line, the dark shadow visible through her tight, white top. It was a beacon of normalcy in the chaos, a reminder of the woman he knew outside these walls. He stared at it, his eyes tracing the line of her breasts, imagining them in his hands, his mouth. The thought of her softness, her warmth, was a balm to his soul, and it was all he needed to push him over the edge.

With a roar that was more animal than human, Tom came, his cock spurting a thick jet of cum that soaked his boxers. Nat's hand remained on his balls, her grip never loosening, her eyes drifting to his crotch as she watched the climax rip through his body. He convulsed in the ropes, his legs kicking out, his chest heaving as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over him. The sensation was indescribable, a mix of agony and ecstasy that left him trembling and spent.

The class erupted into cheers and applause, the girls hooting and hollering as they congratulated Nat on her handiwork. She stepped back, her eyes still on Tom, her hand slowly releasing his balls. The pain didn't abate immediately, the aftershocks of his orgasm still pulsing through him. He felt like a ragdoll, limp and helpless in the wake of the most intense experience of his life.

As Nat stepped away, Alice approached, a glint in her eye that spoke of unfinished business. She looked him up and down, her gaze lingering on his crotch, soaked with the evidence of his climax. "Looks like you need one more to really drive the lesson home," she murmured, her voice a seductive purr that sent a shiver down his spine.

Without warning, her hand darted down and wrapped around his cock through the damp fabric of his boxers. The sudden contact made him jolt, a gasp escaping his lips. The other girls watched, their eyes wide with excitement, as Alice began to squeeze. Her grip was firm, her fingers curling around him in a way that was both painful and tantalizing. "You're going to give Nat an extra shot," she said, her voice low and demanding. "To make sure she knows just how much this hurts."

Tom's body was a mess of conflicting sensations. The pain in his balls was still acute, but now there was this new sensation, this intense pressure building at the base of his cock. He could feel the blood pulsing in his veins, his cock swelling against her hand. Each squeeze sent a fresh wave of agony through him, but it was an agony that was strangely addictive.

Alice's grip grew tighter, her nails digging into his sensitive flesh. "You're going to cum again," she murmured, her breath hot against his neck. "You're going to show Nat just how much you can take." The room was spinning, the faces of the other girls swimming before his eyes. They watched with a mix of fascination and hunger, as if they were witnessing something primal and raw.

Tom's eyes rolled back in his head as Alice began to twist his cock, her grip never faltering. Each movement was a dance of pain and pleasure, a delicate balance that had him teetering on the edge. He could feel Nat's eyes on him, her expression a mix of surprise and arousal. The pressure mounted, the ache in his balls growing with every twist of Alice's wrist.

"Look at me," Nat demanded, her voice a whisper that cut through the haze of pain. He opened his eyes to find hers boring into his, a fierce hunger that sent a shiver down his spine. "Look at me when you cum," she said, her grip on his wrists tightening. The challenge was clear, a silent demand that he acknowledge her as the source of his torment.

Alice's hand on his cock was a vice, her thumb pressing into the sensitive cockhead with a precision that was almost scientific. He could feel her nails digging into his skin, the pressure increasing with each twist of her wrist. "Look at her," Alice murmured, her voice a dark echo of Nat's. "Look at the power she has over you." His gaze flicked to Nat's chest, her breasts straining against the fabric of her top. The sight was a beacon of beauty in a sea of agony, a reminder of the woman who had brought him to this point.

With a final, brutal twist, Tom's body arched off the pole, his back bowing as a second orgasm ripped through him. The room was a blur of color and sound, his vision swimming with the intensity of the sensation. He could feel the hot spurts of cum shooting out of him, soaking the fabric of his boxers even further. The pain was unbearable, the pleasure unspeakable. He was a creature of instinct now, his body responding to the dual sensations of pain and release in a way that was beyond his control.

As his orgasm subsided, Alice released his cock, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Good boy," she whispered, her voice a dark caress. "You've learned your lesson well." She stepped back, giving Nat the space to move closer.

Alice turned to the class, her hands on her hips, a proud smile on her face. "Ladies," she announced, her voice commanding, "today's class was about more than just self-defense. It was about understanding the power you have over men. The ability to bring them to their knees with a simple squeeze." She gestured to the line of bound men, their faces contorted with pain and pleasure.

"The balls are a man's weakness," Alice continued, her eyes gleaming with a sadistic joy. "They are the gateway to their soul, the key to their submission. When you go for the balls, you are not just attacking their body, but their very essence. You are stripping them of their strength, their pride, their manhood."

The girls nodded, their expressions a mix of excitement and determination. They had all felt powerless at some point in their lives, and now, they were learning to take control. They were the ones with the power now, the ones who could make a man scream and beg with a simple twist of their wrist.

One by one, the males were untied, their bodies trembling with exhaustion. Their boxers were soaked, their faces a picture of relief and humiliation. Alice watched with a satisfied smile as Nat moved to Tom, her eyes never leaving his face. "Good job, Nat," she said, her voice softer than it had been all class. "You've learned your lesson well."

Nat approached Tom with a mix of excitement and trepidation, her own desire still pulsing through her veins. She reached up and began to untie the ropes that bound his wrists, her fingers shaking slightly. As the last knot was undone, she stepped back, giving him space to collapse to the floor. He crumpled, his legs giving out beneath him, his chest heaving with deep, ragged breaths.

Her eyes searched his, looking for any sign of anger or resentment. Instead, she found only a deep, sated look of pleasure and something else, something that made her stomach clench. It was a look of submission, of understanding, of acceptance. It was a look that sent a fresh wave of desire crashing over her. She reached out a hand to help him up, her heart racing as their skin met. His grip was firm, his hand warm and trembling slightly. She felt a thrill of power as she pulled him to his feet, the weight of his body leaning into hers.

"You did well," she murmured, her voice low and husky. "But we're not done yet."

Tom looked at her through a haze of pain and lust, his mind racing. "What?"

"If you come back next week," Nat said, her voice a seductive whisper that seemed to resonate through his entire body, "I promise you a special reward. Something that will make all of this worth it." She stepped closer, her breasts brushing against his ribs, her hand trailing down to cup his bruised balls. The contact made him jolt, a gasp escaping his lips.

Tom's mind raced with the implications of her words. What could she possibly mean by a "special reward"? His imagination ran wild with images of Nat's soft, gentle touch replacing the pain, her lips tracing the path that her knee had taken moments before. He swallowed hard, his cock twitching at the thought.

"I'll be here," he managed to croak out, his voice barely above a whisper. Nat's smile grew wider, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Good," she said, her hand giving his balls a final, playful squeeze.

As the class broke for the day, Tom stumbled out of the gym, his thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and arousal. What had Nat meant by a special reward? His mind conjured up images of her slender hand wrapping around his cock, her thumb tracing the sensitive underside as she worked him to a climax. Or perhaps it would be her hot, wet mouth, her lips sliding over him as she took him deep, her tongue toying with his tip. Or maybe she'd straddle him, her pussy enveloping him in a warm embrace as she rode him to oblivion. The thought of her perfect breasts, squeezed together, with his cock nestled between them, brought a fresh wave of pain and pleasure to his already sensitive balls.

All week, Tom found himself unable to focus on anything but the promise of Nat's reward. His mind wandered during work, his hand often finding its way to the bulge in his pants, imagining what was to come. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was a moth drawn to a flame, and Nat was the flame that threatened to consume him. But the thrill of it, the danger and the desire, was intoxicating. He'd never felt so alive, so...wanted.