**Bound by the Tide**

The beach was empty—just my stepmom and me, the sun setting over the water, casting everything in a hazy orange glow. She had insisted I come with her, and I knew better than to argue. At 35, she carried herself like a woman who always got what she wanted, her body still tight and tempting under her bikini, her confidence unshakable. What I hadn’t expected was the bag she pulled from her car, the one with the ropes and the silky, scandalous fabric spilling out.

“Put these on,” she said, tossing a bundle of lace at me. My face burned. It was a fucking thong, delicate and sheer, with straps that barely covered anything.

“Steph, come on—”

She cut me off with a finger pressed to my lips. “Don’t make me repeat myself.” Her voice was low, dangerous. I swallowed hard, my cock already stiffening just from the way she was looking at me—like I was hers to play with.

I tugged off my shorts, my hands shaking as I stepped into the thong. The lace was soft against my skin, but it was humiliatingly small, my dick straining against the thin material. Steph let out a slow, approving hum, circling me like a predator. “Good boy,” she purred, tracing a finger down my chest. “Now, turn around.”

Before I could protest, she had my wrists bound behind me with thick rope, the fibers rough against my skin. She knotted it tight enough that I couldn’t slip free, then pushed me down onto my knees in the sand. My pulse thundered as she knelt in front of me, her fingers sliding under the waistband of her bikini bottoms.

“You’re going to learn your place,” she murmured, peeling the fabric aside to reveal her pussy—already glistening, her clit swollen under my gaze. The scent of her arousal hit me, sweet and musky, making my mouth water. She gripped my hair, forcing my face between her thighs. “Lick.”

I didn’t hesitate. My tongue dragged up her slit, tasting her, and she let out a soft gasp. I circled her clit, sucking gently, and her hips jerked against me. “Fuck, just like that,” she moaned, grinding against my mouth. I could feel her thighs trembling, her breath coming faster as I worked her, my own cock aching from neglect.

Then she pulled away, leaving me panting. With a wicked smirk, she reached into the bag again and pulled out more rope. “Hands and knees,” she ordered.

I obeyed, the sand rough against my knees as she tied my ankles, spreading my legs wider. The thong was useless now, my cock hanging heavy, desperate for attention. Steph straddled me from behind, her hands sliding over my ass. “Such a pretty little slut,” she whispered, then leaned down to bite my shoulder—hard. I groaned, my hips bucking at the sharp sting.

Her fingers teased my hole, slick with something from the bag—lube—and I tensed. “Relax,” she murmured, pressing one fingertip inside. The stretch burned, but the way she worked me open, slow and deliberate, had me panting. “You take it so well,” she praised, adding another finger, scissoring me until I was writhing under her touch.

Then she lined up her cock—a strap-on, thick and veined—and pushed in without warning.

I cried out, my back arching as she filled me, stretching me wider than her fingers had. “Fuck—Steph—”

She grabbed my hips, fucking me hard, each thrust driving the breath from my lungs. The rope kept me trapped, helpless, taking every inch she gave me. “Mine,” she growled, slamming into me, her nails digging into my skin. The pleasure was unbearable, my cock leaking onto the sand beneath me, my body shuddering with every snap of her hips.

When she finally came, her moans loud in my ear, I was already close. She untied my wrists just enough to wrap her hand around my cock, stroking me in time with her last few thrusts. “Come for me,” she demanded.

I did—hard, my release spilling over her fingers as she milked me dry. She let me collapse onto the sand, untied me slowly, then pulled me into her arms, her lips brushing my ear.

“Next time,” she whispered, “I’m bringing the leash.”