He works the fence again. She flashes and fingers herself on the patio until he cracks. Inside she has him tie her up, drip wax, then take her ass.
Mark was back at the fence by nine the next morning. The post holes needed packing, the new boards still waited in a stack against the shed, and the gap between their properties still stood open like an invitation neither of them had closed. He worked in the same rhythm as the day before, shirt already off, sweat already starting on his back under the early sun.
Elena appeared on her patio just after ten. She wore a short robe that barely reached mid-thigh. She sat in the low chair facing the fence line, one leg folded, the other stretched out. When Mark glanced up she opened the robe. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath. Her shaved pussy was on full display, soft outer lips parted just enough to show the pink inside. She didn’t smile. She simply watched him and kept the robe open.
He looked for a long second, then forced his eyes back to the post he was packing. The soil compacted under the end of the shovel. He drove it down harder than he needed to.
Elena stayed where she was. After a few minutes she slid one hand down her stomach and cupped her pussy. Two fingers parted the smooth lips and stroked slowly along the wet centre. Mark’s shoulders tensed. He kept working. She pushed a finger inside herself, then a second, and the wet sound carried across the short distance. She fucked herself with slow, deliberate strokes while she watched him. When her fingers came out shiny she brought them to her mouth and licked them clean, eyes never leaving him.
He lasted another ten minutes. The board he was lifting slipped in his hands. He set it down, wiped his palms on his jeans, and looked at her again. She was still going, three fingers now, hips shifting in the chair, the wet sounds clearer. The smell of her reached him on the light breeze.
Mark dropped the shovel. He unbuckled his belt, shoved his jeans and underwear down far enough to free his cock, and stepped through the gap in the fence. He was already hard, the head dark and wet at the tip.
Elena stopped moving her hand. She closed the robe with a slow tug and stood up.
“Not yet,” she said. She looked at the clock on the wall inside the open slider. “Give me ten minutes. If you can wait that long.” She winked once, turned, and walked into the house without looking back.
Mark stood there with his cock out and the sun on his bare shoulders. He pulled his jeans up but left them unbuttoned. He went back to the fence and tried to work. The post stayed crooked. He gave up after a few minutes, leaned against the finished section, and rubbed himself through the denim. The pressure only made it worse. He could still see the wet shine on her fingers in his head.
After what seemed liked hours her voice carried from the upstairs window.
“Mark. Come up.”
He walked through the kitchen and up the stairs. The bedroom door was open. Elena stood at the foot of the bed in wearing a black lace harness that framed her breasts without covering them, thin straps that ran down her sides and clipped to a matching lace thong that was already dark between her legs, and soft leather cuffs already buckled around her wrists. A short length of soft rope lay coiled on the mattress. A thick white candle burned on the bedside table, wax already pooling in the dish beneath it.
She held her wrists out toward him.
“Tie me to the headboard,” she said. “Then use the candle.”
Mark’s throat worked. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”
“I know. That’s why I want it.”
He took the rope. His hands were steady enough. He looped it through the cuffs and around the wooden headboard posts, tight enough that her arms stayed stretched above her head but not tight enough to dig. She tested the give and nodded.
“The candle,” she said. “On my tits first. Then my nipples. Then my pussy.”
He picked it up. The wax was liquid and clear. He held it over her left breast and tilted. The first drop hit the upper curve and made her inhale sharply. He dripped a slow line across both breasts, watching the white beads cool and harden on her skin. When he aimed lower the wax landed directly on her left nipple. She hissed and arched, the harness straps pulling tight. He did the same to the right nipple. Her thighs pressed together.
“Lower,” she said.
He moved the candle between her spread legs. Her pussy was already swollen. He let a thin stream of wax fall across the smooth outer lips. She cried out and tried to close her legs, but the angle of the harness kept her open. Another drop landed right above her clit. Her hips jerked hard against the mattress.
“Fuck,” she breathed. “That’s enough. Touch me.”
He set the candle down and ran his fingers over the cooled wax on her breasts, then lower. The wax on her pussy cracked under his touch. He peeled a thin piece away and slid two fingers straight into her. She was soaked. The wet sound filled the room. He curled his fingers and rubbed her clit with his thumb until her thighs started to shake.
Mark pulled his jeans down and got on the bed between her legs. He lined his cock up and started to push in.
“Not yet,” she said, loud and clear. “Not yet. Lots of time yet.”
He stopped with just the head inside her. His jaw was tight.
“Please,” he said.
“No. Not yet.”
He pulled back. She smiled up at him, wrists still bound, wax still drying on her skin.
“You can use your hand. Or your mouth. Or you can slap my tits. Or my ass if you turn me over. But you don’t fuck me until I say.”
He turned her onto her stomach. The rope twisted but held. The straps framed the curves of her tight ass. He brought his open hand down once, hard enough to leave a pink mark. She moaned into the pillow. He did it again, then again, until both cheeks were warm and flushed. He slid two fingers into her pussy from behind and fucked her with them while he spanked her, the wet sounds mixing with the sharp crack of his palm. She pushed back onto his hand and came with a broken sound, her pussy clamping down around his fingers.
He flipped her onto her back again. The wax on her nipples had cracked. He leaned down and sucked one into his mouth, scraping the dried wax away with his tongue while his fingers kept working her open. She pulled against the rope and told him to use his mouth lower. He did. He licked the remaining wax from her smooth pussy and then fucked her with his tongue until she came a second time, thighs locking around his head, the strong smell of her filling his nose.
When he lifted his head she was breathing hard, eyes dark.
“Still not yet,” she said. “Get the candle again. One more time. On my clit.”
He held the candle steady and let a single drop fall directly onto her swollen clit. She cried out and arched hard enough that the headboard creaked. The wax cooled almost at once. He brushed it away with his thumb and rubbed the heat into her until she was shaking again.
“Now,” she said. “But not my pussy. You had enough of that yesterday.”
He stared at her.
“I want you in my ass. Use the juices from my cunt. Go slow at first.”
Mark’s cock jerked. He gathered the slick from between her legs and rubbed it over the tight ring of her ass, then pushed one finger in. She was tight but she took it, breathing out through her mouth. He added a second finger and worked her open while she watched him. When she nodded he lined up and pressed the head of his cock against her. The resistance was strong. He pushed steadily until the head slipped inside. She made a low sound and pulled against the rope.
“Keep going,” she said.
He worked himself deeper in short, careful thrusts until he was deep in her. Her ass gripped him like a fist. He stayed still for a long moment, letting her adjust, then started to move. The friction was intense. As he fucked her he watched the way her body took him, the straps shifting with every thrust. She told him harder. He gave it to her, one hand braced on the mattress, the other rubbing her clit in tight circles. The wet sounds of his cock in her ass mixed with the soft creak of the rope.
She came with her eyes open, staring at him, her ass clamping down so hard he almost lost it. He kept fucking her through it, deeper now, the rhythm breaking. When he came it was with a low groan, buried as deep as he could go, pulsing hard inside her. He stayed there until the last twitch faded, then carefully pulled out. A thin trail of cum followed.
He untied her wrists. The red marks from the rope stood out against her skin. She flexed her fingers and pulled him down beside her. The cooled wax still clung in places.
Elena rested her head against his shoulder and smiled.
“Guess the fence can wait another day,” she said.
Mark laughed once, quiet and rough, and closed his eyes.
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