A mystery

Aaralon awoke. Mhmmm. That felt good. He couldn't see. Groggy still with sleep and distracted by the wet pleasure rippling through his body; Aaralon mistook the darkness for the dead of night. Mhmmmm. Nice.

There was a weight on him. He wasn't free to move. Mhmmm. It only took a second for these thoughts to whisk through his mind and then he knew there was someone sucking his dick.

Lips. A tongue. There were fingers around the base of his cock. He was hot, sweaty and filling with desire. His heart was beating faster. "Um?" he ventured, finding his lips dry. Whoever was sucking him off was wonderful at it, he could feel the tip of their tongue flick over his cockhead and then leisurely down his shaft.

He couldn't see because he was blindfolded. Aaralon was suddenly worried, worried and going crazy with pleasure, "Camila?" he ventured. The only reply was a lingering slurp. Fingers gently squeezed his balls. The tongue lapped at him.

Aaralon tried to reach up, trying to remove the blindfold but his hands were bound. He tried to sit up, but something, somebody was holding him down. The warm mouth took his dick in again, lips closing around him. "Er... Carrie?" He didn't want to blow his chances with either, guessing names could be dangerous. "Who is ... " and he got no further. His mystery visitor stuffed a gag into his mouth. A ball. A clasp lock clicked and it was too late, try as he might, Aaralon couldn't push the gag aside with his tongue.

He was caught. He was helpless. He couldn't stop whoever-it-was from sucking his cock. Not that this was a bad thing; it simply wasn't what he was used to. Control. It had been taken from him. He could feel his heart pound. The mix of fear and sheer sexual pleasure was intoxicating.

Wet lips slid up and down the length of his large cock. Someone kissed his sensitive skin. He could feel the suggestion of teeth against his shaft. Aaralon wanted to cum, he was ready but whenever his orgasm began to peak the unknown fingers around the base of his cock squeezed tightly. The visitor wasn't allowing him to cum. Aaralon hoped it was Camila. No. He hoped it was Carrie. One of them, at least, and not some stranger who had chanced on their makeshift camp site.

Aaralon lost track of time. How long had this person been lapping at his dick? How long had the soft tongue been washing around his aching erection? How long could he last?

He was beyond the point of exhaustion when he was finally allowed to climax. He came and collapsed.

Aaralon awoke. It was the morning. A sheen of light filtered through the fabric of his tent. There was no sign of his "assailant". There was no sign of ball-gag or blindfold. He was alone.