May is perched high above the food court, leaning far over the rail. She peers down at people. They look so wonderfully squishable and cute from up here. May wrings her fingers, tipped with pitch-black pointed nails, around the railing.

"He better show," she thinks to herself. God how she hated that he'd gotten under her skin.

The relationship started five months ago and the first two were a whirlwind. May and Peter were on each other like it was going out of style. Didn't matter where, if they felt it was on, then it was on. Under restaurant tables, movie theatres, and every vaguely horizontal surface of his office. But like any relationship, you're on your best behavior for the first part, then they get to know you. It started to sputter, then fizzle, then finally went cold.

May suggested trying something that she loved but was nervous to share with him, some bondage and kink. Peter got so nervous he didn't even want to even have a conversation about it. That was the last nail in the coffin. Two months without contact and suddenly a text asking to talk. May hopes this is worth it.

She sighs deeply.

A bark behind her draws her attention. Tied to a table is a happy terrier, no more than a year old yapping for attention. The owner with his matted mess of a bun is inside chatting up the barista who wears an obvious customer service smile.

May exhales sharply, her boot blasts open the door.

"Whoa," exclaims the man.

May's talons shoot up from her 5'4" frame sinking firmly into his knotted unwashed bun. She yanks down hard, his drink spills across the floor as she wrenches his head below waist level.

The man yells, "Stop, what the fuck!"

Her reply is her other set of nails sinking into his scalp. A grin creeps up as she forces his body through the door. The dog yaps in excitement. May twists her hips and lowers him onto all fours over the water bowl. She spits on him through her two-toned lips. She presses down more, inching his face closer to the reflective dish.

"Fuck you bitch," he shouts back, managing to get his hands to the side in resistance.

May's brown eyes ignite and with purpose, she brings her heeled boot down on his splayed digits eliciting a squeal from him. Nails biting into his head, she slams his face to the bottom of the bowl. Bubbles and water slosh out of the shallow metal dish, while the puppy bounces wanting to play too.

The dog yaps again, May blinks and is leaning against the rail. The dog owner having struck out begins untying the leash from the table leg. She breathes deeply in then out.

"Come on, pull it together," she thinks.

She looks down again. Peter sits at a table and sets his briefcase down, and looks around hopefully. An almost Cheshire Cat grimace peels its way up to her dimpled cheeks.

Peter crosses his legs at the knee and checks his watch, five minutes before the agreed time. He worried the train delay was his undoing but he made it. He began to catch his breath from the run, but his heartbeat won't fully settle. The slight bounce of his heel betrays him like the wag of a tail.

Peter looks around at people going about their lives, buying into and buying what people like him told them to. Peter is a nervous wreck, butterflies turning into bats inside his gut. He thinks, "This will go smooth, you prepped what you'd say."

Peter liked May. They had chemistry no doubt, but she was fun too. She was unapologetic and that was something he didn't know what to do with. He'd been thinking about their last interaction, their last fight really, and how they hadn't listened to each other. He hopes this would go better.

For a moment the little hairs at the back of his neck that aren't slicked down by styling gel stand up. He looks toward the stairs and mid descent is May. She's decked out in pure KillStar. A smile spreads to his lightly stubbled cheeks.

"Hello," the syllables pour off her darkened lower lip like honey. Peter snaps up and gets her chair for her.

"You look amazing," Peter says as he pivots to his seat.

"Thank you," she utters and crosses a leg on the chair under her thigh. A heavy beat passes as neither knows what to do.

"What did you want to talk about?" May asks.

Peter purses his lips bringing his bag up to his lap. He taps it with his finger and looks off somewhere. May looks away not wanting to betray to him the hurt building in her chest.

"I don't think either of us was happy toward the end. I don't want you to be unfulfilled or deny a part of you. I want you to be satisfied. I've done a lot of thinking and reading, and I want to be together again. Get back to us. I'm willing to try these things," Peter says, bringing out and sliding over two stapled pages to her.

May takes the pages and scans their contents. Peter keeps his hands on the table and waits, making an effort to keep still. May folds the paper in half, making a sharp crease that ends with a click of her nails. She looks at Peter through lidded bedroom eyes and stuffs the paper in her backpack.

"Come," she says as she rises from her chair. She walks away as Peter speeds to fall in step behind her. May passes the concierge desk, busy with a highly confused tourist, toward the large unisex bathroom which she enters.

Peter stops and waits outside. It takes less than ten seconds to get the text, "Get in here."

Peter looks left, then right, before pulling open the handle enough for him to slide sideways into it.

May stands in the center of the room, arms crossed.

"Lock it," she commands.

He turns to slide the deadbolt into place and as he goes to face her again, she is inches from him the top of her head just cresting his collarbones. Peter jumps slightly, and May slides her fingers deftly into his jacket to undo his silk tie.

"This doesn't seem appropriate for you," she remarks and with a long pull makes it slide around the back of his neck.

Flipping it to rest over her shoulder, she begins undoing the delicate bow of her ribbon choker. Holding it up to his neck now, its cameo facing her, she waits for him to accept the invitation.

"When ready to engage in play, a specific article of clothing should be worn," Peter says, quoting page one, as he leans forward touching his Adam's apple to the black silk.

May smiles and with a tap, on his shoulder, she lowers him to his knees. His bag slides off his shoulder to the floor.

Leaning over to fasten the collar around his neck, her cheek brushes the top of his ear.

"We're going to start to play now, using the same signals you outlined, no speaking unless you red and we come to a full stop," her words pour into his ear, "Agreed?"

A beat passes before he gives a simple nod, May finishes her crude knot. Cinching it taut nipping into his neck just enough that its presence is known but not restricting his breathing. She lifts him by his shirt and walks him over to the toilet, pushing him to sit.

His breath quickens, and May puts a boot between his legs on the heavy lid.

She commands, "Hands."

Peter presents them to her palms up, and with his dark green tie, she begins to bind them together. Watching her he interlaces his fingers to stop from fidgeting. May finishes one end, pulling his wrists down behind his head. May plops down on his lap and rocks forward, bringing his wrists behind his head. May ties the skinny end to the rail above the tank.

Peter breathes in her hair, a faint hint of citrus mixed with lavender. While tying him up, May begins to get distracted by his smell. Sweat has mingled with the last of his cologne into a ripe and very present musk. Pressed against him she can feel his heart beating heavily, the thumps vibrating and stimulating her breasts. She finishes the knot and draws herself up to take in her work.

His jacket open, his shirt slightly unbuttoned and his arms bent overhead, he is the prettiest picture.

"Comfortable?" she nearly purrs.

Peter replies with a nod and a shift of his waist. May looks down and his penis is pressing up against his slacks, cutting an outline in the charcoal fabric. The tip reaches her thigh just above the elastic band of her fence net stockings. She puts her hands on his knees and slides herself forward to press the soft flesh of her bare thigh on his manhood.

Peter sucks in air and reflexively pulls against the tie, wanting to grab her.

"Ah, did you want me to do something with this?" May ponders as she leans back applying even more weight to his rock-hard member.

The muscles in his chest tense, jaw pulsing trying to keep sweet expletives from escaping. His eyes roam all over her body before landing inside hers.

In his eyes are excitement, frustration, need, and longing. Peter witnesses a new side of May as she arches her back, her breasts rising underneath her black graphic T-shirt. Her thighs underneath her skirt smother his lap like a firm pillow. She keeps pressing and rubbing his penis, rolling it like a vein underneath the skin and it is maddening.

The heat from him makes her panties start to slick and stick to her. She elicits a small purr. Peter watches in amazement as her nipples harden against the cotton. The cut of her shirt rises to show the bottom of her breasts. Peter moans and grunts twice to let her know he was getting close.

May looks down her chest at his tortured ecstatic face. Rolling up to fully sit on him, she takes his face in her hands. He is near tears, any more would push him over the edge.

May delicately reaches into her small backpack for the contract. Slowly unfolding she reads from it, "Orgasm Denial, Pleasure Control."

Peter pants with mad need and slides his waist so he can feel her move on him, he needs just a bit more.

May stands up and brings her fingers down on the meat below his cheekbones in a quick severe slap.

"Corporal Punishment," she nearly spits at him taking a step away.

Peter slides to the side, his left arm crossing across him over his neck to the knot behind him.

"Please," he gasps in a near whimper, then he remembers the previous order.

May glares at him and says, "What was that? Please what?"

This was a challenge. Peter clams up and looks down, a visible wet spot on his pants from his precum.

A knock comes from beyond the door. Peter jolts up in his seat.

May turns to it and barks, "Occupied!"

Silence follows for a heavy beat before she brings herself back in front of Peter. As she walks over he re-arranges himself into the position she put him in. For once towering over him, she looks at the paper again, tapping the edge with one of her nails.

"Sensation Play," she mulls over before finding his eyes and then with an eyebrow raised in a question, "Gagging?"

Peter thinks for a brief instant and then with a smile nods. May drops the paper and finds the side fastener of her skirt. It drops to the floor revealing her black lace panties. A dark spot that evokes an image of a Rorschach test. May dips her pointed thumbs under the string and begins pulling them away from her mound, creating thick strings between her and the underwear.

Peter is perfectly enraptured by this display, the burn growing in his arms leaves his mind entirely. Stepping out of them, May brings her underwear up for a quick taste test, intoxicating and honey-like.

With her free hand, she grips Peter's jaw and cheek, and says, "Say ahh."

"Ahhwhmm..." is what he gets out before she tucks her soiled panties into his mouth.

May then slips off her shirt, revealing her chest, nipples standing out in the bare air. Peter can only take in this sight for a brief moment before she wraps and ties her shirt around his eyes. For a final touch, May brings her middle finger down into the folds of her vulva, coating the entire digit with nectar. She runs it under Peter's nose and around the outside of each nostril.

Peter's nostrils flare as he takes in the air desperately, the scent and taste heightened by the lack of a visual make him salivate uncontrollably. A rustling sound and her footsteps make him jerk his head in a nervous reaction.

Suddenly her hands are in his shirt collar. May is stuffing paper towels, and states, "For your drool."

May feels something is missing. She stops and cocks her head to the side to ponder, and it hits her right in womanhood. She undoes his belt and pants, yanking them down with a distinct lack of ceremony. His meaty cock bobs for a moment after being freed from the constraint, it comes to rest against his shirt, May runs her fingers up his shaft, cupping his glans slathered in precum. She rubs it around before stepping away.

May takes a moment to admire her work. Her grin threatens to crack her cheeks, as her fingers touch her mouth to play with his goo.

Peter's chest rises in deep breaths, his cock pulses against his shirt and the open air, every touch and scent heightened. May reaches into her backpack and grabs her phone. Peter moans in a question at the sound of the digital camera shutter.

"Don't worry, these are just for us," she mewls trying to stay stoic.

She continues to take photos, he reacts every time but never fully resists against the tie that holds him in place. The sound stops, then she is on him again, sitting on his lap sideways squeezing his dick between her thighs. She holds the phone at a high angle and makes a peace sign and plays with his face and chest with the other hand.

Peter is completely lost in subspace with her breasts and arms playing with his chest. How she has her thick thighs wrapped around his dick and giving subtle squeezes is completely melting his thought process.

May will never admit it to Peter, but this is the horniest she may have ever been in her life. She sets her phone on the tank behind them and swings herself around to straddle him.

"You've been such a good boy," she whispers into his ear as she slides her sex against the underside of his cock.

"Are you ready for your reward?" May says in her sweetest tone yet.

Peter grunts a deep chesty grunt that transforms into a moan as she sits down on his cock, taking him to the base in one stroke. May grips his chest, nails digging in for an anchor as she bites her lip. A shudder takes over her whole body as excitement peaks. For a few moments neither can move, both lost in the joining.

May is the first to move, her need and pants filling the room. Her fluids soak his lap and with each back and forth rock of her hips, a squelch resounds off the tile. Peter does his best to work with her, but his movement is so limited and that raises his excitement faster than their sex had ever done before.

The tempo increases faster and faster until May is bouncing up and down on his burning hot rod of flesh. Her moans fill the space, his inhales are barely able to provide enough oxygen to his brain. It's a furious slapping of flesh that seems like the whole world can hear.

"I'm cumming, I'm going to cumm!!" May shouts giving no shits.

Peter wrenches against the restraint, bucking his hips to get as deep as he can for his orgasm. His groans string together into an incomprehensible dialogue.

May slams down onto him one last time as her entire body shakes with pleasure, a high-pitched squeak escaping from her very core. Peter's legs quake and buck forward with a mind of their own, black lace escaping from his mouth as he lets out gasps and grunts that tense every muscle in his neck.

Her nails dig into his back as they come together, pressing as close to each other as humanly possible. Bursts of hot cum splatter the inside of her womb and spill down her full vagina toward the entrance. Female ejaculate leaks onto Peter's stomach, drenching his shirt and running down the base of his cock and between his legs.

Both can barely move, much less speak for what must be minutes. May's panties fall from his mouth, coming to rest in her cleavage pressed against his chest. Gathering herself, May begins to undo the tie behind his head. When freed, Peter brings his arms down over her, pulling her in for a hug, blindly finding her lips for a deep messy kiss.

May and Peter enjoy the afterglow. A knock comes from the door again.

"Everything ok in there?" a query penetrating their space.

"Fuck off!" Peter orders pulling himself from May's lips momentarily. She lets out a chuckle, removes her shirt from his head, and gazes into his eyes.

"Are we happy with our new arrangement?" she coos into him, seeing his mouth smeared with two different shades of some of her makeup.

Peter clenches his Kegels, causing a twitch in her, and dives back into her lips. She kisses him back, and both focus only on each other and this moment.