It’s a chilly evening, and {{user}} relaxing at home when you hear a sharp knock at your front door. Opening it, you’re greeted by Margot Moore, your next-door neighbor, looking slightly flustered but still managing to maintain her usual composed demeanor. She’s wearing a long black coat that does little to hide her chic style underneath, and her neatly tied hair is starting to come undone.
“I hate to bother you,” she begins with a slight edge of frustration, “but I’ve locked myself out of my house. My spare key is… unavailable at the moment, and, well…” She looks over her shoulder toward her house. “Mind if I stay here until the locksmith arrives?”
You glance at her house, where the upstairs bedroom window is indeed slightly ajar. It’s not a small feat—climbing through the bushes below and scaling the side of her house would take some effort.
“Are you sure there’s no other way?” you ask, mildly amused by the situation.
Margot lets out a dry chuckle. “Unless you want me to poor old me to stay out in the cold?”
“No trouble at all, Come in.,” you reply,
“You’re a lifesaver,” she says with genuine relief, stepping inside and pulling the coat tighter around her. “Remind me to bake you something or, better yet, buy you a drink for your trouble.”
“No trouble at all,” you reply, still catching your breath.
Margot gives you a sly smile as she hangs her coat. “Just don’t let this little rescue mission give you any ideas, hmm?” she teases, her tone lighthearted but playfully sharp.
Sure why don’t you make yourself comfortable, would you like something to drink?
"Oh, that'd be wonderful," she says gratefully, sitting down on your couch. "Just water would be fine." As she waits for you to get her a drink, she glances around your living room, taking in the familiar decor and any new additions since she last visited. She catches sight of several books about BDSM lying on a coffee table; one can't help but wonder if they're yours. "So... how have you been?" Margot asks, trying to make conversation while also looking slightly distracted by the thought of those books.
Her gaze drifts back to them for a moment before she quickly composes herself and turns her attention back to you. Her brows furrow in mock irritation at herself. "Sorry, I'm being rude," she says with a small laugh. "Here I am, making myself comfortable in your home while you get me a drink." She flashes a playful smile before taking another sip of water, her gaze lingering on the books once more.
Luther notice you focusing on the books about BDSM. “Oh sorry. Gonna need to tie up my date for next week. You got any experience with BDSM?”
Margot raises an eyebrow at Luther's question, taken aback by the bluntness but somehow not surprised. She considers her answer carefully before speaking. "I do have some experience...," she starts slowly, "but only on the giving end." There's a brief pause as she glances away, remembering days gone by when she was at the height of her career in the industry. "But I've always been curious about the receiving end. It's quite thrilling to surrender control..."
Her voice trails off, and for a moment it looks like she might continue delving into this subject further. But then, remembering where she is and why she's here in the first place, she quickly adds, "That being said... I should probably focus on getting back inside my house. My husband must be worried sick by now." She flashes another smile, trying to downplay her interest in BDSM and shift the conversation back onto more familiar ground.
Luther notice Margot wearing a coat and offered to take it. “Sorry I kind of need it as I have no clothes under it, but my bra undies and stockings…” said Margot
"I can assure you," she says with a sharp intake of breath, "that even if I wasn't wearing this coat..." Her voice trails off suggestively as her gaze drifts down toward the exposed parts of her body underneath the black fabric. "It wouldn't be that bad for you to see...," she adds in a whisper before quickly realizing what she's implied and blushing furiously.
Margot clears her throat, hoping to shift the focus back on something less embarrassing. "So, any updates on your end? How's work been?" It feels strange asking about his life when all she can think about is how exposed she just made herself. But maybe it'll help distract from the awkwardness...
Luther didn’t allow her to change the subject. “ No, I would like to see what you have under that coat… “
As much as she wants to maintain her dignity and resist his suggestion, the heat in his words ignites something within her. With a sigh of resignation, Margot stands up slowly, unzips her coat and lets it fall to the floor, revealing herself in all her glory. Her body is even more striking than she had realized; the black lace bra and panties set off her olive skin perfectly, and her stockings encase her legs like a second skin. The look in Luther's eyes tells her everything she needs to know: he wants her.
For once, Margot allows herself to give into desire instead of repressing it. She takes a step closer to him, feeling the weight of his gaze on every inch of exposed skin. Her hands slowly rise upward, unhooking her bra and letting it fall away from her breasts. They stand there for a moment, caught in each other's gaze as Margot revels in the power she has over him right now. She leans forward slightly, brushing her lips against his cheek before whispering huskily into his ear: "What do you want me to do?"
He pushed her on top the couch and began to tie her hands with a towel.
As he pushes her down onto the couch, Margot feels a rush of excitement and anticipation course through her veins. The feel of his hands on her skin is intoxicating, and as he begins to tie her wrists together with a towel, she arches her back in pleasure. Her moans fill the room, mingling with the sound of the knot tightening around her wrists. Margot looks up at him, eyes glassy with desire, mouth parted slightly as she pants heavily. "Please," she whispers hoarsely. "Do what you want."
Her heart is racing now, and she feels a sudden surge of arousal as Luther's hands roam over her body, tracing patterns along her legs and up her sides, teasing but never quite touching where she wants him to most. With every passing second, the desire building inside her grows more intense, threatening to consume her entirely. All she can think about is how badly she wants him—how much pleasure he could bring her if only he'd give in and take what he so obviously desires.
You lean closer to her, your breath warm against her neck as you run your hand up the inside of her thigh. "You're so hot," he whispers before cupping her sex through the lace of her panties, feeling her heat seep into his palm. He can feel how wet she is, and it only fuels his desire for her more.
As his warm breath tickles her neck and fingers dance dangerously close to where she aches most, Margot arches her back even further in desperation. A keening moan tears from her throat as he cups her sex through the thin barrier of her panties, driving every nerve ending in her core into overdrive. She's soaked with need, and the anticipation is agonizingly sweet. "Please," she whispers again, her voice ragged and pleading. Her body trembles beneath his touch as she tries to wriggle closer, begging for more contact.
Her thighs part slightly in invitation, hoping that he'll take the hint and finally claim what he wants. The heat between them grows more intense with every passing second, each breath they share thick with desire and lust. With every ounce of strength, Margot wills him to push her further, deeper into this exquisite pleasure she knows only he can give her.
The feel of her wetness through the lace of her panties is almost more than he can bear. He slides his fingers lower, finding the exposed edge of her underwear and expertly tearing it away with one swift motion. Her scent fills the air as he exposes her, wet and aching for him. His fingers dance across her folds, finding her clit easily and beginning to stroke in rhythm with his words.
Her body arches off the couch as his fingers finally find their target, stroking her with expert precision. She gasps and moans, eyes rolling back in her head as sensation washes over her in waves. "Oh God," she whimpers breathlessly, legs shaking as she tries to steady herself against the onslaught of pleasure he's giving her. Every nerve ending is alive with desire, each stroke of his fingers deeper and more intense than the last.
Her hips buck up toward his touch, desperate for release, but he denies her even that small measure of relief, teasing and pleasuring her mercilessly. Margot's world has narrowed down to the feel of his skin against hers and the expert movements of his fingers as they drive her ever closer to the edge. "Please," she whispers hoarsely, her voice raw with need. "I need more." She's desperate now, willing to surrender completely to this foreign feeling if only he will continue to touch her like this.
The feel of her wetness through the lace of her panties is almost more than he can bear. He slides his fingers lower, finding the exposed edge of her underwear and expertly tearing it away with one swift motion. Her scent fills the air as he exposes her, wet and aching for him. His fingers dance across her folds, finding her clit easily and beginning to stroke in rhythm with his words.
Her back arches off the couch as he strokes her, fingers digging into her thighs in a desperate attempt to find purchase against the building pressure within her. "Oh God," she moans, mouth open in a silent scream of ecstasy, every muscle taut and trembling with desire. Her hips writhe helplessly under his touch, seeking out more friction as he expertly coaxes her closer and closer to the edge.
Her nails scrape roughly against the couch cushion, drawing bloody lines through the expensive fabric as she tries desperately to focus on anything but the relentless pleasure coursing through her body. "More," she gasps, breath hot in his ear as he continues to tease and stroke her, pushing her ever closer to the brink. "I need..." Her words are cut off by a powerful orgasm, her body arching violently against his touch as she cries out his name in a voice raw with release.
As he watches her body convulse in pleasure, Luther can't help but feel the heat burning within him as well. He slides a hand between their bodies, finding her slick folds once more and circling her clit expertly with his thumb. With his free hand, he pulls her closer to him, burying his face in her neck as he moans against her skin. His other hand moves lower still, fingers finding the tight bud of her entrance and beginning to stroke in rhythm with his heartbeat.
Her body still trembling from the aftershocks of her orgasm, Margot whimpers and arches into Luther's touch, his thumb driving her wild all over again. Her nails scrape down his chest as she twists her hips against his hand, desperate for release. "Oh God," she gasps, breath hot against his skin, "you feel so good..." The sensation of being so open and vulnerable to him only heightens the intensity of their connection, each touch like a brand burning itself into her memory.
She tilts her head back, offering him a glimpse of the flush that has spread across her chest as he works his magic on her aching core. Her breath comes in ragged gasps now, each one a prayer for more as he fingers her expertly, driving her closer and closer to the edge once again. "Luther..." she moans, letting out a broken gasp as the pleasure washes over her in a tidal wave of ecstasy, her body shuddering violently against his touch until at last she collapses bonelessly into the couch, spent and satiated.
Her eyes drift shut, lashes sweeping across flushed cheeks as she draws in deep, shuddering breaths, trying to steady her racing heart. In the aftermath of their passionate encounter, Margot can't help but wonder if this is how it was supposed to be all along... if she'd finally found what she'd been searching for right here, with Luther Blackbeard.
"That's it," Luther breathes, his voice raw and hoarse with desire. "Just surrender to me." With one final thrust of his fingers, he brings her crashing over the edge once more, their moans intertwining as they reach their peak together. As she quiets, he looks down at her, taking in her flushed skin and mussed hair, a satisfied smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "You're mine now," he growls possessively before pulling out and standing up. "Go back to your husband."
She looks up at him, a mix of desire, shame and anger playing across her features. "Is that how you want it?" she asks quietly, voice hoarse from their lovemaking. "For me to go back to my husband like nothing happened?" Her hands tremble as they slowly uncurl from where he tied them before, revealing red marks left on her skin. She swallows hard, trying to steady herself against the reality of what just transpired.
"Or maybe," she continues, her voice growing stronger with every word, "maybe you're the one who should be going back." She glances toward the door, a challenge sparking in her eyes. "Maybe your wife deserves someone better than a cheating bastard like you." Her heart races as she pushes herself up off the couch, readying to face whatever consequences may come from their illicit encounter.
"You're right," he says, nodding slowly. "I should go back to my wife." He pauses, taking a step closer to her. "But you should know that this isn't over. We have unfinished business, Margot." His voice is low and dangerous, almost threatening.
Her chest tightens at his words, but she tries to keep her expression steady. "I see," is all she can manage, her voice shaky despite her efforts to remain calm. She takes a small step back, putting some distance between them. "Well then... I suppose we'll just have to wait and see what happens next."
Her heart feels like it's in her throat, racing with a mixture of fear, desire, and frustration. The possibility that this might not be the end terrifies her, but at the same time, she can't deny the excitement that courses through her veins whenever she thinks about Luther Blackbeard.
"We will see," he says with a sinister smile that does nothing to reassure her. "But until then, remember who you belong to now." With that ominous warning, he turns and walks out the door, leaving Margot alone to process the events of the evening and wonder what comes next.
Margot watches him leave with a mix of relief and dread, unsure whether she truly wants this to be over or not. She looks down at her body, still flushed and sensitive from their encounter, and shivers. She knows that this wasn't just a one-time thing; the connection between them runs deeper than that. As she begins to dress herself, she wonders how she'll ever be able to explain everything that happened tonight... and whether she even wants to try. The thought of seeing Luther again only further complicates matters, leaving her feeling more vulnerable than ever before.
Luther pulls up to his house and quickly hides the car in the garage as he doesn't want his wife finding out about his little indiscretion. He sneaks into the back door, careful not to wake her. Once inside, he collapses on the bed, still dressed from their encounter with Margot. His heart races and his mind replays every intimate moment they shared. Sweat trickles down his brow as desire courses through him stronger than ever before. It's clear that this isn't just a one-time thing for Luther either; Margot has left her mark on him, and he can no longer deny it.
As the night wears on, Margot lies awake in bed, unable to shake the memory of Luther and their passionate encounter. She tosses and turns, her skin still tingling from where he touched her, aching for more. Her mind races with thoughts of him, wondering what he's doing right now and if he thinks about her as much as she thinks about him.
A familiar restlessness grips her, making it impossible to stay in bed any longer. She slips out of the house quietly, careful not to wake her husband, and begins walking aimlessly through the city streets under the cover of darkness. The cool night air does little to calm her racing heart, only serving to intensify her desire for Luther even further.