After our conversation today, if you can call those little blinking characters
a conversation, I stayed in a haze all the way home. Your lust was palpable.
The nervous laugh did nothing to dissipate the energy that I could feel
even over the miles. Mine was all too evident in my husky voice as I teased
you over the phone, and in my slightly too taut nipples straining against
the fabric of my shirt, had anyone bothered to look closely enough. We
both know its sweet fantasy and talk, but that doesn’t keep that
delicious electric warmth from rushing through me.
The ride home is short, with some pop star or other singing about a lost
love. The house empty when I arrive, blanketed in blessed silence. After
the day I’ve had, I can feel the tension ease out of my muscles by
just crossing the threshold. I start shedding clothes as soon as I close
the door, hoping that by removing the trappings of the day, I can somehow
regain some composure. It was busy, chaotically so. I can feel every ringing
phone and every raised voice still reverberating through my nerve ending.
I pad on bare feet through to the kitchen, pull a quick bite together
and begin running a bath. Sliding into the warm scented water, I settle
in for a good long soak. My hands move over my tension knotted brow to
my temples and finally to the nape of my neck. And my thoughts drift away
from files and phones to our conversations over the past days. I’ve
seen only a single picture, taken months ago. I’ve heard your voice
only a handful of times. But I can feel you there standing over me as
I drift in to fantasy.
You wait patiently for my
instructions. This is new for you. You’ve played before. You can
take almost anything any woman has ever been able to dish out and ask
for more. You’re a little proud of the fact you’re strong and
resilient. But here, waiting for me to finish my bath, watching one foot
toy with the spigot, while I leisurely read the next chapter in my book,
is maddening. Anxious to do something, anything, I feel you fidget. I
know you feel clumsy kneeling here not knowing what to do. I smile to
myself and feel warmth spread out from my stomach. Having a bit of pity,
I tell you to wash my back. As you take the cloth from my hands, I reach
out and brush my soapy finger lightly over the crest of your collarbone
and down across your chest, lingering just a second to pinch your nipple.
I lay my hand flat against your chest and feel your heart pound. As I
trace down your stomach, I can feel your muscles shiver at my touch. And
I live for that second that your breath catches in your throat as I touch
you for the first time. I don’t hear you exhale until I remove my
fingers from around the head of your cock. You are very good. You wash
my back, then help me out of my bath and towel me off.
As I get out of my bath, I
can feel the ghost of your strong hands as they steady my steps. I reach
past my towel, with just my fingertips, lightly brushing my neck, moving
down to my shoulders, and then lightly grazing my own nipples, feeling
them jump to life under my caress.
I reprimand you for trying
to feel me up, rather than towel me off. You grin sheepishly and drop
your eyes to your growing erection. I click my tongue in admonition and
walk away from you leaving you, standing staring down, holding the wet
towel. In the bedroom, I point to my favorite lotion and instruct you
to put those muscles to work. I lie down on my stomach. I can feel your
eyes travel from my shoulders, down the small of my back to the curve
of my ass across the soft flesh behind my knees. You take a deep breath
and climb on the bed straddling me. I can feel you wince as your erection
touches my back. Your hands shake a little as you start to rub the lotion
into my shoulders. They feel like steel encased in kid on my skin, their
roughness sending sparks through me everywhere they touch. You move slowly
and methodically down my back, working away all the tension lodged there.
I occasionally let out a small sound of pleasure, and you can feel my
back arch with your touch. As you move down to my ass, I part my legs
just a little. I feel you swallow, hard. But you proceed in the same slow
careful manner. I smile as I wiggle a tiny bit as your fingers graze the
inside of my thigh. I know you can feel the heat there and can imagine
the wetness.
I close my eyes, letting my
hands trail over and over my skin. The lotion feels like silk as I rub
tension from my muscles. I touch my shoulders roughly, grabbing the muscles
there and kneading. I massage my calves, and thighs rubbing in lotion
and tension away. I let my index finger brush once against the cleft between
my legs, letting the sensation wash over me slowly, a gasp catching in
my throat.
I tell you to move, to sit
quietly at the foot of the bed. You hesitate just a bit, not wanting to
break contact. I throw on your big white oxford shirt and button it up.
The tails reach almost to my knees. I know I look small, engulfed in your
clothes. I tell you to kneel on the floor at the foot of the bed, facing
away from me. I walk behind you and grab you by the hair, jerking you
backwards, exposing your neck. I lean down and whisper very quietly, “You
did very well boy. Now it’s time for my fun. Are you afraid?”
You reply, “No, I don’t think so.” Wrong answer. I tighten
my grip and sink my teeth deep into your shoulder muscle, grabbing your
nipple and twisting it with my free hand. Looking down, I see your cock
spring into action at my touch. I bite, again, and again, until you start
to breathe hard and rock back and forth gently.
My hands wander to my breasts,
tracing circles around the tight bud, until arching up, I grab my nipples
and pinch. I alternately pull and caress them until I feel the heat seep
to my belly and down between my legs. My breath becomes a little faster
and a short moan escapes my lips. But I want this to last, so I reluctantly
release my nipples and trace patterns on the flesh of my middle for a
while longer.
I turn you around to face
me. You look up, half lidded. “Up here. On your back.” Once
there, I blindfold you. You can feel my hands trace across your body.
I kiss the palm of your left hand, and place a restraint around your wrist.
I do the same with your right hand and both feet. You can hear the chink
of metal as I spread you across the bed, king size of course, and affix
your limbs to the four corners. I tell you I’m going to the bathroom
and for you to get comfortable. I get up from the bed go to the bathroom,
turn on the light and close the door. As soon as you hear the door close,
you begin to test your bonds. You look a little surprised that they are
as sturdy as they seem. After a few seconds of testing, you settle in,
seeing how much give you have. The more you move about, the larger your
erection grows. I ‘return’ to find you very still and breathing
slowly and deeply. Without preamble, I grab your balls roughly, making
you cry out in surprise. I laugh. “Startle you did I? Big strong
boy? Hmmm…” I pull out some of my favorite toys to torture you
with. We start with soft caresses and rabbit fur.
My breath is coming faster
as I tease myself, running my hands up my thighs, just short of feeling
my own mounting wetness. I can smell the scent of my arousal as I spread
my legs wider, inviting further caresses. I know if I touch myself, I’ll
come on the spot, so I prolong my agony by barely flicking a fingertip
over the swollen lips hiding my clit.
I start building intensity.
First, by scratching and rubbing your skin. I spank the inside of your
thighs, increasing the pressure with every touch. You jump at the kiss
of the rubber flogger on your chest. It’s quite a bit to take. As
your breathing gets heavier, I slow and caress the reddened skin, giving
you small kisses. Occasionally I come very close to you, nuzzling your
neck, whispering, ‘good boy.’ I nibble at your ears and brush
my tongue quickly across your lips. Your head jerks forward, searching
for my mouth. Seeing you strain toward me sends a shiver down my spine.
I unbutton my shirt, and lean down, brushing my breasts against your tender
skin and give you the smallest of kisses, barely a whisper.. I hear you
growl/grumble your frustration ,coming from somewhere deep inside. I reach
down and grab your cock as I nuzzle your neck and move down to bite at
your nipples. You start to buck. I lean up and put one of my nipples in
your mouth. You suck at it greedily. As you suck, I take my hand from
around your cock and slowly start to pat your balls. You start, but don’t
miss a beat. As you continue to suck and nibble at my breast, I keep paddling,
increasing intensity. You muscles go taut as you release my breast, gasping
for air. I stop paddling. I return my breast to your mouth and you reach
for it again, and again, I begin paddling your balls. After a moment,
you stop, and so do I. I say to you, “I see you’re figuring
out my little game. As long as you have what you want, I get what I want.”
We do this a few more times, until you fall back exhausted, unable to
take anymore. I sit back and look at you. A faint sheen of perspiration
is covering your chest and your breathing has become erratic. I softly
stroke your arms and chest and belly. I ask, quietly, “What do you
want boy?” Your answer, low and throaty, “I want you.”
“Is this what you want, boy?” I dip a finger into my wetness
and trace it across your lips. Your tongue flicks out and you nod. “Then
say it.” You hesitate for a moment, then slowly say, “I want
to taste you. I want to give you pleasure.”
I slowly dip my fingers into
my own wetness and bring them to my mouth, savoring the scent and taste
of my own arousal. I begin to stroke myself careful to avoid my clit,
letting the intensity continue to build.
I move around until I’m
straddling you, your face buried between my legs. The first touch of your
tongue takes my breath away. You lick softly, barely parting my lips with
your mouth. I begin moving against your mouth, covering you with my arousal.
I pause, with my finger pressed
lightly over my clit, feeling my heart race, and my flesh throb beneath
my hand. I tap my clit, my hips bucking to meet each touch. Now, my breath
comes faster and shorter.
I lean over and release
the binds on your hands, then your feet. Your hands reach instinctively
for my hips to hold me. I grab then and push away from you, turn around,
sit squarely on your chest, and pull the blindfold from your eyes. You
blink as if coming out of a stupor and look up at me, questioningly. I
say, breathless, “You may.” You need no other encouragement.
Your hands go around my waist and push me roughly to my back. Pinning
my arms above me, you reach to the nightstand, deftly produce and unwrap
a condom all the time looking steadily into my eyes. I can see the passion
built up to the boiling point. Once you’re ready, never letting me
go, you drop your head, kissing me deeply, then move to my neck, breathing
in my scent, kissing and biting your way to my breast which you take roughly
into your mouth, sucking and biting hard. With your knee you push my legs
wide and lower yourself to me. I cry out as you enter me and thrust my
hips up to take you in.
As my touch becomes more and
more insistent, I stroke my clit rhythmically, building speed and intensity
with each passing moment, pausing only slightly to lengthen the pleasure.
Slowly I feel my orgasm build in the center of my stomach and start to
spread outward.
You pin my body under yours,
consuming me in your passion. I return your lust, coming quick and hard,
over and over, every stroke starting another wave of pleasure until we
both fall together, sweating, and exhausted.
I fall back onto the bed, my
hand dripping with the evidence of my pleasure, gasping for breath.
I lie in your arms, aftershocks
of pleasure rippling through me.
Slowly, I reach over, pull
up the covers, turn out the light, and fall asleep.
Quietly you get up, turn
off the lights and return to my side. I fall asleep curled in your embrace.