Latina Hotwife Taped, Penis Gagged, Hard Tied, Fucked & Covered In Cum By The Plumber (HD)

Description:

The doorbell’s single, dull chime echoed through the quiet house. Latina’s pulse leapt; she had waited for that sound all afternoon.The plumber—tall, broad-shouldered, work shirt streaked with dried plaster—stood on the stoop, toolbox in hand.

The kitchen glowed under recessed lighting. Sunlight filtered through half-shut blinds and painted stripes across the tiled floor, striping her legs as she resumed her perch on the tall wooden stool. The plumber set the toolbox down, boots thudding steadily, and flicked open the metal clasps with a metallic rasp. He removed a small roll of heavy vinyl matte grey tape.

Latina steadied herself on the seat. He knelt, callused hands gliding down the fishnets. The first loop cinched the hollow just above her knee; the tape tugged at the netting fibers as he pulled it firm. He wrapped twice under the curve of her calf, again across her ankle, sealing her legs together from thigh down.Each pass of tape drew tighter, molding to the muscles, restricting and shaping at once. Cool adhesive kissed the sensitive backs of her knees; she exhaled, soft and shallow.

Satisfied, He gripped her hips and pivoted the stool. Swiveling her brought her backside toward him.

he slapped her ass, striking bare skin leaving a red mark. A sharp crack ricocheted through the kitchen, accompanied by a sting that bloomed instantly into warmth. Latina arched with a gasp, the burn flowering through her pelvis.

His hand snapped back and delivered another spank, lower, cupping beneath the curve this time. She jerked in the bindings, the stool scraping tile. Moisture gathered between her thighs, evident in the sudden heat trapped by the thin thong.

He hooked fingers under the side string of her panties and yanked upward, the fabric biting into her slit before snapping. The lace gave with a rip; he tore the ruined thong away as Cool air met the slick skin of her pussy, wetness instantly chilling.

He parted her folds and dragged moisture upward, smearing it across her clit, circling slow and tauntingly firm. Her hips tried to buck but the tape held her in place; she groaned, frustration and pleasure lacing together.
Latina felt him explore—testing entrance, sliding shallowly inside, then withdrawing.She tightened around him instinctively; her voice hitched, pleading in a language half English, half Spanish, need slurring every syllable.

Ah-ah,” he chided, retrieving the tape roll again. “Too much talking.”

He stepped behind her and coaxed both arms around the stool’s back

rest, palms pressed together. Quickly he wrapped her wrists, the tape biting, pressing them flush. Layer after layer secured her hands in place; she tried flexing experimentally—no give, nothing but pressure. He pressed a broad band of tape over her mouth from cheek to cheek. She tasted dust and glue, breath instantly warmer inside her nose.

He paused, standing back, admiring his work: her chest heaved, breasts straining against lace.

“I’ll get my tools,” he said simply, then walked back toward the living room, footsteps receding. He left her restrained and trembling atop the kitchen stool, adrenaline coursing through every bound channel. She flexed within her bonds, felt the tape’s resistance, and each failed attempt ratcheted her arousal higher. The scent of her excitement mingled with kitchen air. Saliva pooled beneath the gag; she whimpered through her nose, squirming, clit still buzzing from his touch.

Minutes stretched, the refrigerator humming like distant thunder. She leaned forward as far as the taped wrists allowed, letting the strain travel up the back of her arms, relishing the delicious impotence. Wetness trickled along her inner thigh, a ticklish trail she could do nothing about.

Footfalls returned. The plumber ran his fingertips brushed hair from her temple, then he caught the edge of the tape across her mouth and peeled it slowly; adhesive released her skin with a prickle.

He lowered his zipper.Denim parted, and he freed his cock—thick, heavily veined, tip glistening. The heady scent of aroused male drifted over.

he stared, pupils blown wide, then dropped from the stool to her knees. Tape still trapped her lower legs together; wrists remained secured behind her back, but her balance and determination held. She leaned forward, lips parting, and guided him into her mouth with a single glide.

Heat filled her throat on the first thrust. She flattened her tongue, lips sealing, cheeks hollowing. He set an even tempo, hips rocking, each forward press nudging her gag reflex. Saliva flooded; she gurgled, throat working, eyes watering, but she kept pace, hollowing and releasing.

He snapped his hips again, fucking her mouth steadily, letting the slick tunnel milk him. Spit spilled over her chin, dribbling across her lace lingerie. Her reflection swam in his eyes, mascara smudging under tears.
He drew out with a slick pop. “Up,” he ordered, already hooking fingers under her arms.

She climbed carefully, legs still fused, shifting her weight against him. He hoisted her torso atop the cool granite counter facing the overhead cabinets.

He positioned himself, rubbed the crown along soaked folds, then drove inside her pussy to the hilt.

Latina cried out, forehead bumping cupboard. The invasion stretched her, sudden and ruthless, burning exquisitely. His hand clapped over her mouth, muffling the yell even while her nostrils flared. He began pounding—hard, deliberate strokes—balls slapping her clit with each forward slam.

His thrusts quickened. Slick friction pulsed up her spine, her body racing toward climax faster under the dual restraints of tape and control.Heat flooded her pelvis, radiating outward through every trapped limb until she sagged, shaking.

The plumber withdrew slowly, cock slick from her orgasm. He wiped a bead of sweat from his temple, eyes glittering. They maneuvered out of the kitchen, her knees shaky, tape causing an awkward shuffle. He guided her to the living room, nudging her onto the plush couch.

He sat beside her shoulders and turned her head toward him. His cock jutted before her face again. She opened instantly, accepting the length. He leaned back, letting gravity direct her mouth downward, controlling depth.

She blew him fervently, tongue vibrating. The salty bead leaking at the tip mingled with her spit. He groaned, hips lifting, then seized a fresh length of tape from the roll still on the coffee table. While she sucked, he tore a piece and pressed it across her parted lips, sealing them once more. She made a startled squeak yet continued to suck through the tape, cheeks hollowing for his pleasure, suctioning for breath through her nose.

Latina rolled onto her stomach, maneuvered hips up as best she could with taped knees. He bent her over the couch back; pillows muffled her breasts. He slid into her again from behind, stretching swollen tissues still rippling. He fucked her steadily, then faster, balls slapping her clit; the wet drives echoed in the quiet living room. Putting on a pair of black latex gloves he covers get mouth gagging her moans further.

The plumber stepped back, surveying the scene.

He zipped up, collected his tools, and tossed a glance at the wall clock already edging toward the hour. “Better hurry,” he said softly, almost kindly. “He’ll be home soon.”

Door clicks sounded; she lay there, bound, heart slamming against ribs, breath hissing through nostrils. Arousal and panic warred in tremors; she flexed within tape, feeling how cum and wetness cooled on her skin, counting seconds before she had to wriggle free—or risk being found like this.

Twisting, she rocked torso, bunching abdominal muscles; the footstool scuffed as she kicked taped legs. Tape resisted. She thrashed again, harder, pleasure blooming at the friction, fear sharpening the edge.
Her body ached, craving more than it feared, but the clock kept ticking. She drew a deep breath through her nose—then began the struggle in earnest, skin squeaking against vinyl bonds, each movement a thrilling, desperate effort to escape before her husband’s key turned in the lock.