Sunday night. She's collapsed on the couch, exhausted. He rises from where he's sitting and joins her briefly, asks her whether she's cold, then takes up a large blanket and wraps it around her, tightening it so she's nearly cocooned.

She wiggles slightly and this gives him an idea.

"Don't move," he says.

Photo by Todd Weaver.

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She tries and finds she can't. He returns with one of his ties and ties it around her wrapped body to secure her arms. He stood and looked down at her, completely incapable of motion.

He flips her over to find the space he'd left open behind her to exposed her ass and sinks into it with his tongue, his fingers reaching in to play with her moistening slit.

She moans into the arm of the couch, arching her back and raising her ass as much as her prison allows.

She protests, "no, we can't, we have to --"

There is always something else to do in this town.

He doesn't stop. She propels herself off the couch and lands on the carpeted floor on her back. He lowers himself over her and begins to unwrap her. Like a little present. She pulls him over her and he stops, remembering the previous engagement.

"We really have to get going."

She reaches out to him but he jumps to his feet and disappears down the hall. She's fast after him, looking in every room before reaching his bedroom. She pauses by the bed and the bathroom, then enters his walk-in closet.

He's standing there looking at her.

She closes the door.

"We're in the closet," he says.

"In more ways than one," she responds.

He turns her around and pushes her against some shelves. Her hands grip one of them as he spreads her legs and drops his pants.

His cock is hot and hard against her pussy. Her nails dig into the wooden shelves.

"No --" she says, turning around. "We can't."

She opens the door and steps out, but he's right behind her. He pushes her down on the bed and spreads her legs, breaking into her in a single thrust. She moans and resists, trying to free herself.

He bites her neck and continues to thrust until she can no longer resist him. She gives in, raises her hips so he can go deeper. They fall on their side, his arms wrap around her, pulling her into his body hard. She arches her back and thrusts her hips back against him.

She rises, pushes him on his back, straddles him, bouncing up and down on his cock. He slows her, pulling her hips down with his hands. She fights him, sliding up and down, her thighs tightening under her from the strain of her own weight and his hands trying to hold her down.

He flips her on her back, folds her legs over her chest and begins to fuck her deep and hard. She's screaming, he's moaning. Her legs break free and wrap around him. He's so deep inside her. She's cumming so hard, their chests are wet with her.

She flips him on his back again and slides down his chest. He tries to resist, but she takes his cock in her mouth. Mouth and hands, balls and cock. He finally explodes down her throat and the two collapse.

Slowly he pulls her up so her head is resting on his chest. They no longer care they have somewhere to go. See, it's not that Angelenos are flaky. It's that things come up. You know what I'm saying?