Chapter Text
“Y’know,” He grits hoarsely, “I didn’t teach you so you could do this.”
You laugh, your finger tracing along his bearded jaw, mussing the short hair there as he tries to pull his face away from your hand.
“How am I supposed to be able to do it without practice?” You raise your eyebrows at the last word, your tone dripping with insinuation.
“Maybe you should find somethin’ else to practice on.” He scowls, narrowing his eyes as your hand moves to run through his hair, honey blonde and nearly touching his neck.
“Hush, you won’t be complaining when I’m done with you.” You pull sharply at the hair at the nape of his neck, and he sucks in a breath as his head jerks backward.
You trace your hands down his neck, across his shoulders, and up his broad and muscled arms, his tendons taut as you reach his wrists, hopelessly tied and bound above his head to the tree trunk he’s reclined against. You cannot keep the smirk from your face as you lean over him, tracing back down his arms to his neck, finally placing one finger beneath his chin to tip his face upward.
You stoop closer to him, and he closes his eyes as his tongue darts out to wet his lips quickly. Only inches away from his face, you snicker when he leans forward, trying to catch your lips, only to be just out of reach. His eyes shoot open and a frustrated whine escapes his mouth as he tries to chase you back, but he is unable to as you pull away due to the bindings.
“C’mon now, don’t be cruel, missy,” He rumbles, scowling again as you run your hands down his chest, down his abdomen.
“Cruel? Why, Arthur, that’s not kind of you.” Your hand hovers above the waistline of his pants, pausing for a moment before your fingers move to start unfastening his suspenders.
“Darl- what-” He pants, realizing what it is that you’re doing when both of his suspenders hang limply on his chest. His cock also realizes what you’re doing as your hands move to the buttons of his trousers, slowly unfastening them and pulling his shirttails up, exposing his lower abdomen and hips.
You look at him, a devious glint in your eyes as your finger lightly traces the trail of dark, wiry hair from his navel to where it begins to curl, just below where his pants lie.
“Please,” He grits out, his hips straining upward as you trace circles against his exposed hip.
“Please what, Arthur?” You muse, tracing your fingers along his rapidly hardening length through the denim that separates your skin from his.
He groans as you peel away the fabric of his pants, exposing his pelvis to the cool air, his cock springing upward when it is finally free of its bindings.
“Please, darlin’, please touch me,” He whines, sucking in a loud breath as your hand traces along his length, the hard, reddened inches of him hard as steel and starting to weep at the tip.
“Like this?” You wrap your fingers around his length firmly, and stroke up and down painfully slowly. Beneath your grip, you can feel the pumping blood along the prominent vein that traverses his length.
Arthur moans, needy and low, watching your hand move over his length, the head disappearing between your fingers as you glide upward.
“What do you want?” You ask in a sickeningly sweet voice, slowing your strokes to an agonizingly slow clip.
“Any- anythin’, just please, please-” He throws his head back against the tree trunk, his hips jerking upward as he tries to find some relief against your hand.
“Arthur. Come on. You gotta tell me what you want, my love.” You smile as you fully lean over him, pressing your lips against his neck, and he groans again as you squeeze him.
A slick pump of his cock makes him whine out loud.
“Just - fuck, just let me come, please, sweetheart-” He is cut off as you pump his cock again, speeding up as your grip twists slightly on the downstroke.
“Mm, alright, alright. Keep making those noises for me and we have a deal.” You whisper, teeth moving to nibble on the lobe of his ear and he shivers as your hand picks up the pace. Arthur groans as you settle in to sit next to him, panting like some crazed animal, mouth hanging open and pupils blown wide.
Your other hand dives into his union suit, cupping his full and heavy testicles, squeezing gently in time with your strokes, and his hips buck upward uncontrollably. His breathing devolves into hoarse pants as he watches your small hand work him. Arthur strains against the ropes above his head, cursing as the knots you’ve tied are strong - of course they are, he taught you how to tie ‘em.
You lean against his shoulder, hands working him, fully enjoying how you are making this mountain of a man gasp and whine and squirm. Maybe you should do this more often. The seam of your bloomers is damp as you squeeze your thighs together, but as Arthur turns his head toward you and you look up at him, you’re fine with getting your pleasure later. You’re sure, after he recovers from this one, he’ll return the favor.
His eyes flutter shut as he grits his teeth, bucking upward hard, pulling on the rope again in some vain attempt to free himself.
“I’m gonna - fuck - darlin, ngh-” He whines out, grunting as you speed up your stroking and squeeze at him.
“Come for me, Arthur.” You mewl in a low tone, and with the permission you’ve given, he’s gone.
You slide your hand upward, over the head of his cock, and your palm closes around it as he explodes, his spend coating your skin as you gently squeeze his emptying testicles.
He’s panting, whining, grunting, mouth open, and pupils blown as you work him through his orgasm, leaving him a shaking, spent mess by the time his cock ceases its twitching.
You reach into the pocket of your skirt and pull out a handkerchief, wiping your hand of his milky spend before you move to clean him off - he hisses at the sensitivity of his still-hard cock, and you chuckle to yourself as you lean in over him to catch his lips in a kiss, which he heartily returns, sitting up from his reclined position as much as his bindings would allow.
You pull back, smiling, as your hand leaves him. Sitting up on your knees, you lean up to start untying the knots binding his wrists above his head, “These held well, you’re a good teacher, cowboy.”
He grins, in a dopey, satiated way, up at you.
“I have a few more lessons for ya - you know there’s dozens o’ kinds of knots, right?”