#escapologist

Working with the Efron Weisz has its benefits.

You were his cute little assistant, prancing around in a scandalous dress (for the period), tying him up, locking the locks on all of his crazy machines. Your only goal was to be eye candy, keeping their audience's attention before Efron swoops in to steal the show-- one final blow. The show was crushing it, popularity skyrocketing. Money was coming in, excitement was buzzing.

You gasp, pulled out of your thoughts by a hearty smack against your ass. You bite your lip, pulling your head back from the clouds. You're straddling Efron, knees against the sofa in his dressing room, hands on his shoulders, his lips buried into your neck.

"Mmh, E-Efroon," you mewl. He sucks and nips on your neck, squeezing your ass, humming darkly.

"How much we made, baby-doll," he gruffs into your neck. "Tell me again," excitement dances in his tone.

You giggle, baring nails into his shoulder pads, "Ten thousand, darling!"

"Hmm… We're set," he pulls out and stares at you with a grin. His grin sharpens, eyelids hazing over. Your heart skips a beat, your jaw falling slack. You knew that look. Hands slip underneath your skirt. They're thick, burly, hot like fire.

You whimper, prodding fingers pull your underwear to the side, underwear that stuck to your pussy, leaving a wet string. His middle finger immediately prods your fluttering hole, the sound erotic as it parts open, loud and proud pouncing its premature love for his fingers. "Haa-h," you sigh blissfully, as he plunges into the knuckle.

"Your body is eager to congratulate me," he hisses with a chuckle.

"Mmh- yes," you breathe out. He gives a daring wiggle inside your pretty, pink walls, flexing forward to curve against your bladder. You whine, but he knows this isn't enough for you. He's got his sweet girl trained, she needs more. He grabs your chin with his free hand, forcing your gaze. Then, he slowly slides his ring finger to join you, his forearm resting on your backside. Your jaw falls slack, and the corners of his lips turn up pleased.

"So wet, I've barely even started," he mutters. He sternly, but lightly, slaps your cheek, another attention caller. He wants those eyes dead set on his. "Keep your eyes on me," his tone is daring, simply because you should already know the deal.

You bite your lip, he knows you want it to sting. He doesn't prod you anymore. Instead, he rewards you, by finally thrusting in his fingers at a pleasing, stern pace. You buck forward, balancing your weight on your knees to the best you can.

Your moans trail out, and your sounds downstairs are sloppy. Your pussy is relaxed, his fingers thrust in and out without resistance, lubed to hell by your wetness, how your juices slip and coat your thighs, leaving a pitiful mess. He loves it. "You're driving me crazy," Efron sighs.

His breath hitches as he thrusts slowly and combines with stretching. How he scissors his feelings inside you, getting a feel of how much you can take before your natural goodness clamps down on him. His breath grows rigged, and he's getting hot, imagining his fat thickness getting choked by your walls.

"Ff--fuck," he bites his lip with a moan. You lean like a weightless slop into him, pressing him to the back of the couch, resting your head and weak body against him, thrusting your hips back onto his fingers. You need it quicker.

He chuckles, "How cute." He thrusts in there quickly and hard, using his free hand to slip down between your legs, and swirling your clit between two finger pads. "E-Efron-- haa," you mewl, jaw hanging slack.

You still bounce back on his thrusts, losing yourself in the sway, feeling your swelling clit pulse and pulse along with your juicy walls. "I'm cumming," you spew. He takes the opportunity to ram fast thrusts against your bladder, spinning your clit against his open fingers wildly.

"Ye-yeaah, bitch… Let loose," he growls, a full, deep, controlling grunt.

"F-fuck-- Yess Oh-- Efron," is all you can make out before your orgasm hits you like a truck. A wave washes over you, forcing your body limp, squirting all over his hands, cumming down on his fingers that curve into your bladder. All while, efron continued to wildly rub your clit, all through your orgasm. Spit dribbled down the corners of your mouth, your leg tensed up.

He rubbed it fiercely, even as you arched away, even as your breath clogged in your throat, taking advantage of your dumbness and stupidity during your high. And when you came off it, drawing your last squirt, your brain was Jumpstarted by intense, overwhelming strikes from your clit. You can't hold back your bladder anymore, full-on leaking out as you arched away from his touch. He grabbed your hip with a displeased grunt, pulling your back down onto his nimble fingers, restricting your back into your rightful place.

Your legs are moving, your back is arching, your hips are squirming. You're pressing yourself fully into him. Delectable tears prick the corner of your eyes, "Ef- Effie-- Wait- pleauh," you wail, voice banshee in his ears, "I-- jus… came!!"

"Yeah? Well, you're doing it again, bitch," he chuckles. The sound is so sweet, as tears swell into your eyes.

"I'm cumming," you groan out girthy, as a forceful, unwavering orgasm hits you. This time it's paralyzing, your head is forced back into a lock, drool distasteful on your chin, hole clenched vice around dormant fingers, and your body thrusts upwards into him, successfully separating from those greedy hands.

He slips out of you while you heave and arch, your orgasm prolonged, the nerves in your clit burnt your mind. Your senses are haywire.

"Ff-yyeahh," Efron moans out upon seeing that fucked out expression on your face. He holds you a little, kissing your cheek and chin, licking away saliva until you regain your strength with a sharp gasp. He slaps your ass, hard, your skin stings and your ass bounces back against his thick palm.

"E-yess," you croak, releasing your vice grip. He slides you off him and lays you down on the couch as he stands, chest wide, shoulders confident, and disappears further into the dressing room.

You lay weakly, suddenly cold without him. And before you could complain, he's back before you, holding a rope, a shitty grin on his face.

"E-Efron-- not the damn rope. I don't want that rope-- I want those chains… The chains with the lock," desperation fills your voice.

"Mmh, what a good girl… Your wish is my command," his smile worsens, he drops it and soon reappears with a tiny but long chain. The kind that'll hurt from all the pressure against the skin. The kind that would leave marks.

Your clit spasmed in awareness.

"Let's see you escape, now. Bitch," he's got you tied up in minutes. You're naked, your arms are behind your back, chained up and locked, restricted tight against your forearms, forcing your breasts out vulnerable to him. He reaches over to a coffee table and starts an hourglass. "If you cum before this five-minute timer ends, you get to be free… Hey, I'll even let you taste me," he pauses.

"If you fail… You're going to cum endlessly on this dick. Let's see how much you can take before you break," he cackles.

A full-body shiver overtakes you. One tiny glance into his eyes reveals an ocean of animalistic hunger. He wants you to lose.

Your tongue salivates at the thought of servicing him.

You need that. He never lets you suck him off, most of the time he's too eager to play both your nub to let you do anything.

Fuck. You need to suck that dick. Render him helpless for once.

"Deal," you mumble.

It's not fair, how the game was already rigged before you started.

His cock is hammering into your walls, your legs up flying in the air, his thick hand holding it down. Efron's got you pinned mating press, using his free hand to slap your titties down. His thrusts are wild, hard, deep thrusts, all aided by the intense pleasure of the position. His fat cock has a great head, a head that parts you open like the sea, that rams itself against your sweet spot.

"Ooh, mmh yeah…. Good pussy," he says out between stern, short grunts. His voice is breathless, eyes glued to you, knowing the risk of him cumming just from the sight-- and daring it.

All while you tense and squeeze, burying your nails into your palms, struggling, as the chains wrap vice against you. You're in pain, your pussy is being loved, the strain aches your mind, you've already lost it. "Effie! Might! 'Fronn," you spew out, out of control of your volume.

"C'mon, then," he grunts, "Tell 'me what- you want, baby." The timers at two minutes and thirty, and just swirling your nipple around won't do much. His free hand reaches, grabbing your neck, pressing it down with a loving squeeze. The sound of your pussy getting hammered overtakes the room. Each thrust is a loud, wet, sloppy squelch, pitiful, and pitiful your wetness dribbles down your ass crack, and coats the sofa beneath you.

Your toes clench up sharply. You try to squirm, but all his weight is already on you. He's got you by the neck like a hunter, and fuck you're about to cum. You can't grab onto him, you can't tease his nipples back, distract him, or do anything to thwart it. Each relentless thrust from his cock sends a shockwave, a shockwave you're extra sensitive to now that your high was approaching.

Five minutes. You can't last even five minutes with Efron?

Tears prick the corner of your eyes as you shamelessly arche into him. "I'm gonna-- cumm," you announce, face hot, entranced by the smell of fucking in the air.

Efrom surges, and his cock twitches inside of you. He grows a delighted smile, shutting his eyes in relief for a small moment. Your heart races. Then, without open eyes, he pulls back from your neck, leans back upright, and trades in his powerful, deep thrusts for swift, g-spot-torturing, jabs.

Your pussy flutters and walls pulsate around him, coaxing his jaw open to a loving 'o', his sounds like gravel. "C-Cum, girl… Don't fight it," he commands. Your walls tell him so, how you clench and clench to hold back.

"Nooo," you control your breaths, full-on tears streaming out.

Worriedly, Efron glances at the hourglass. The sand is pouring out. On estimate, he's got thirty seconds.

No way. His heart skips. He was getting tired, he was about to cum too!

Efron grabs your ankle, shaking his head with a vicious bark, "You're fucking cumming, bitch." He licks a fat stripe up the bottom of your foot, using his free hand to pinch your clit simultaneously.

"Anng!! Fuck!! You--" You cum hard before you can finish your sentence, garbles of words pouring out your mouth, "aahhh-- diirty… bastard." Your cum hits you hard, your legs tense, your big toe is still abused and nicked on by Efron, clit is still played with while you orgasm.

But you can hardly complain for long, as you hear a beautiful, deep moans trail after you. "Baabyy," hot loads spray your insides, only raising the heat between you two. Swear dribbles off the top of his bald head, he's eager to swipe it off.

During his high, he breaks for a second, a rare sight as he turns in his autopilot. He continues to lick your feet like a dog, still playing with your clit, but no longer does he thrust inside you, instead, he mellows in the heat of your walls, the kiss his tip and your cervix currently share.

Overstimulation strikes like hunger pangs up you, but he's barely on this planet to realize his doings.

When he comes down, he realizes how quiet you are. Just staring at him like you've won the lottery. His pale cheeks hint at a soft pink.

"Oh yeah? You enjoyed that shit," he tries to be tough but he's delighted. He's smiling, trying not to giggle as he drops your leg, and still rubs soft, slow circles into your clit.

You squirm, "Yess." He chuckles.

"Mmh, well, you lost, doll," he leans forward, rubbing his nose against your cheek. "Should I punish you?"

"E-even if you wanted to… you cant… you came all inside me," you croak out, voice hoarse and dead.

He laughs, shaking his head. "You're right… A draw then?" He peppers kisses onto your squishy cheek, unaware of the silent orgasm that overtakes you.

You gasp, clenching your toes vice. And when you get the chance to speak, "mm--yeaff," the overflow of cum spilling out gives you away.

Efron giggles delighted, like a schoolgirl, he slides out and pulls away, standing up and leaving the dressing room. He comes back with a glass and a wet towel, where you continue to trap as much cum as possible inside.

"Can't spill a drop, honey," he warns you with a loving, soft gaze.

You nod dumbly, "'m tryin'."

He takes the glass cup, dragging its coldness up your ass, collecting some of the overflow before lining it up with your hole. Its caressing makes a sharp ring sound, budding your anticipation.

Efron looks dead at you, strong hands giving your thigh a nice slap. He opens his mouth and pauses. Edging you, edging the command. Like a master teaching his dog when to eat. His lips move, "Release."

And with a pretty grunt, you open wide, pushing out thick ropes of mixed cum into the glass cup.

"Ff-fuck," he groans, licking his lips. He pulls through the cup into light, not caring abt the stragglers of fluid that run down your ass crack. It's a dirty sight, the cup full of a clear white, tan substance. He swirls it around as if it were wine, bringing it up to his nose. The smell is sharp, earthy, a sinful delight.

"Shhit," he drags out his words as he goes bottom up, drinking it all.

"Noo-- Effie wait-- no effie don't drink it all," you squirm and buck forward, getting his attention and kicking him with your foot. Helplessly you watch as the cup goes immediately, as he swallows with cheeks full of mixed cum. You shudder.

But he leans over, grabbing your chin and pulling your mouth wide. He pours out the rest mixture onto your tongue, and you swallow it greedily. "Mmh, Eff--" he slaps you, the sharp stink planting your cheek into the sofa. He spits on the burn he left, watching as you gasp and squirm.

"Hehe," he giggles like a girl, sitting next to you, wiping down your ass and hole, cleaning you up so nicely. His gaze is lovesick, mouth agape with a sweet pant. "You did so good for me, darling."

He picks you up, guiding your forehead to rest against his shoulder as he unlocks the chains, freeing your hands. They spring out around his neck, and his hands wrap around your waist.

"Effieee," you whine like a cat. "Yes, my love," he's guiding you into his lap, and you wrap your legs around his waist. His hands grab your ass and stand, carrying you out of the room.

"I want a rematch… You cheated," you purr.

"All is fair in love and war," he hums.

"No-- That was cheating."