I'm Not Ashamed Anymore

I went to this fancy hotel last week with my friend's new bike lock. Yeah, you heard right, a bike lock. Thought it was just a casual night out, but when I got there and saw her smirk, I knew she had plans. She led me up to our room, and once inside, pulled off the fake wall hiding an even fancier one, locked us in. No escape, so I got down to business. The lock was cold against my skin as I guided it between her legs, mimicking a real key but oh-so-awkwardly rough. She moaned, pulling me closer. It took some maneuvering, but she lifted herself up and impaled herself on the thick metal shaft of the lock. I grunted, pushing harder into her as she rode it like a maniac. Her slick folds slid over cold steel, her skin glistened with sweat from the effort. She came first, collapsing down onto me in a shivering mess, and I followed shortly after. The lock was still inside her as we kissed, catching my salty cum on our tongues. We never really had to worry about locking up, did we?