There's something about kneeling on the floor of a public bathroom between the legs of a hot dyke. This spontaneous meeting arranged over text messages found me face deep in a wet cunt, hand wrapped around the back of my head listening to both the bathroom door for unexpected visitors and to the sounds of her orgasms. Five minutes later she walks out the stall to freshen up and I wipe the come off my face and head out the door with her g-string that she had tucked into my pocket.

Sweet glorious piss. Piss and ejaculate. I tried to drink it all in but it would always come just as I had my mouth wrapped around her clit and I can't catch it all in time. It rolls down my cheeks, through my hair, till I'm laying in a puddle. This gift makes me feel like an ungrateful brat for blocking and dodging her fists earlier. That crack I felt in my chest from the last punch she gave me before wrestling me down to the floor, pinning me with her knees and slapping my face just to hear my piercings jingle was worth it for every drop of piss and come she spilled on me.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. It had been a long, frustrating day and my attitude was not appreciated. She is hitting much harder than before and more relentlessly. I tried hard to keep my back turned so that it would take the brunt of her force but she likes to watch me writhe in pain as she slams me against the wall, hand at my throat. Each successive slap gets harder but not as much as when she lets me go and throws both fists right at my chest. I try hard not to whimper because it only makes her hit me again. She wants to hear me cry but I don't want to give her the satisfaction. I fight to regulate my breathing and growl in both pleasure and anger when I cannot. I have gotten bold enough to sneer and smile back at her. She appreciates that there is no malice in this act, it is how I show my gratitude through the pain.

Speaking of gratitude; she takes a break from hovering over my mouth, sits up against the wall and rests the heel of one stiletto in my rib, the other across my chest. To thank her, I take the heel in my mouth and suck her off. This was definitely the right move because I soon found myself wearing nothing but my boots, flat on my back and a gloved hand buried deep inside me. She likes it when I bleed and she always manages to tear something so that I do.

How do you thank someone for an experience like this? This time, I buried my face in her cunt and made her ejaculate on my face over and over. I will have to think of something even better next time.

The cuffs came out of nowhere. I do not enjoy being out-muscled but there I was up against a wall with my hands shackled behind me. Of course I resisted. The result of which is that she doesn't bother putting on the safety. Every time I got tossed against a wall, the cuffs tightened a little more. It's hard to dodge punches without the use of your arms. It's also hard to break your fall when she takes your legs out from under you. My unwillingness to help her shove me around brought out the ropes. I'm not sure how she trussed me up so quickly but there I was with ropes cutting into my arms, tied up against myself. The ropes give her a convenient handle to pick me up, flip me over, throw me in the corner. There's not much you can do to resist when you find yourself faced-down and hog-tied. You take what you're given. In this case, it's a boot that required licking. At least I could make her come.

I didn't realize I would prefer having my legs trussed up if the alternative was to remain cuffed, bound, with my pants around my knees, face on the floor and too many fingers in too many orifices. You can only squirm so far with your face. It also made it difficult to fuck her cock, something she soon realized. With my arms free, I could sit on top of her and earn my keep. Turns out what I earned was a stint on my back and her relentless fist punching into my cunt. I did not even realize she had me bleeding until much later.

The evening ended with an hour long session of face-fucking which included her cock down my throat, her nipples between my teeth and my face buried in the crotch of her jeans. Today, I can still feel the resulting heel marks on my back and the nail gouges on my arms and the back of my head.