Friday, November 4, 2005

Half-hitches down her arms.

Our lives become so busy, sometimes it feels like forever between moments of walking on the street together, arms entwined around our backs. It felt good to be together.

We had already shopped for lingerie for her, where she teased me with views of her breasts while comparing various elegant tops. A sumptuous a la carte dinner of oysters, sliced pork in brandied white sauce with sangria, and completed with banana crepes with chocolate and ice cream followed. At home, small glasses of Frangelico awaited us, along with my collection of rope.

She changed when we got home, and reappeared in her lovely striped black teddy with gloves, fishnets, and her high, hard leather boots featuring an endless ladder of silver hooks. I mused how perfect her ensemble was for when we visit the New York clubs during our coming vacation. I mused how perfect her delightful ass looked as the teddy draped her skin.

We began playfully, me smirking as I experimented with various ways to bind her wrists. The white ropes looked striking against her gloves, and it wasn't long before I knew her leather boots would looked even more so after her ankles would be bound. Bringing a wooden chair into our playspace, she mewled her disapproval for placing her virtually bare bottom against the hard, cold wood. I was unconcerned, and knew that discomfort would soon be greatly overshadowed for her.

After securing her ankles with coils finished with square knots, I brought her arms downward and against the frame of the chair, her palms inward and almost under its seat. Half-hitches down the lengths of her arms secured her in place as she spoke of how much fun she was having. The knots looked delicious against her skin. I blindfolded her.

She gasped tenderly as she felt my kisses on her shoulders, the nape of her neck, her face. My tiny bites and soft whispers had her shaking. Her legs had parted and I learned that no panties could be found under her teddy, and saw the clear and moist evidence testifying to how much fun she was having. Her inner thighs were wet, either sides of her legs connected by spiderwebs of glistening juice. She shot her head backward and sucked a lungful of air when my fingers began to softly explore her tender, reddening pussy.

Repeated knots in the center of another length of silky rope made for a perfectly enjoyable gag, but when I first moistened the center knot with her juice and slipped the knot into her mouth, it was just that much more fun. In this condition, bound in the chair and tasting her own arousal while being deprived of sight, her hearing assailed by the strains of the Berlin Philharmonic, she was now my toy.

She received my caresses, my kisses, still. She received my nails gently scratching across the top of her chest, and downward as I cupped and stroked and pinched her breasts. Bites on her earlobes. The occasional dribble of Frangelico on the knot in her mouth, or slowly dribbling on her skin. My hands grasping and smacking her thighs. Her teddy being tugged from her bottom as she sat in the chair, the material set aside and draped into the chair frame in such a way that I could enjoy teasing the soft seam of her ass with my fingers. A fourth length of rope coiled around her breasts, held in place with her own teeth. The wooden clamps at the edges of her breasts. The tiniest, cute marks they left when removed. Her squirmings. Her yielding. Her shaken spasms when I deigned to flick a gentle fingertip across her engorged clit. How puffy her labia had become for me.

My leather slapper, loud and insistent when meeting naked flesh, teased her drenched inner thighs into opening ever wider. Her leather boots creaked against the ropes securing them. Her folds opened like an orchid, and they widened even more after experiencing the slapper's kisses upon them. Her juices drenched the black leather, and I smirked as I dried my tool by brushing it against her face. She had been brought to the edge and pushed away from it several times by now, and was desperate to have a release.

You need permission, she was told. Her impertinence, normally a natural and endearing trait in her, lasted very, very briefly as she tried to remain silent. But her orgasm was at stake, and she knew it, although she hasn't yet discovered the full extent of my wrath when pushed by too much impertinence.

Slowly, she began to ask for permission to cum, but forgot something most necessary. Repeating her words back to her, she received a sound smack on her thigh from the slapper with each word that came from my mouth.

"May. I. Please. Cum," I repeated to her, adding with a final and firmer smack, "What?" Her breathed deeply, embracing another important step in her submission. She finished the request properly.

"Sir," she whimpered. "May I please cum, Sir?"

Rewarded with a kiss, I then pressed the slapper against her folds, swirling it slowly, alternating with gentle and rapid smacks, until she quickly began straining against her bonds and shaking uncontrollably. I held her head to my chest as I stood beside her, feeling her gasps against my skin, continuing to use the slapper on her flesh until she was spent.

A repast. I remove the gag, and bring the crystalware to her lips and give her a generous mouthful of Frangelico. She swallows gratefully. I increase the volume for the Philharmonic, adjust her bonds so that she kneels on the chair now, and toss the teddy's material over her spine to reveal her ass in its sensual completeness. For my own entertainment, I proceed to spank her firmly, patting and caressing her between rounds of echoing slaps. She's moaning now, and her juices have soaked her legs. Her rosebud is crinkling as she yelps.

The slapper against her ass echoes even louder, and her skin is reddening. By the time I move to the small wooden paddle, she's about as tender as she's experienced yet, and even the slightest smack has her quivering. My toy is ready for me to finish our little game.

By now, her boots must be straining her ankles, so they're removed as are their bonds. I replace the ropes with a handsomely thick set of leather restraints that will snugly and comfortably keeps her ankles close together. I untie her arms from the chair, and reaching for the decorative chain around her neck, set her on her knees on the pillow on the floor. The blindfold is still on. She knows the pillow rests right before my seat. I am certain that her instinct has clued in her in to what will be coming next.

Grasping the chain, I sit down and relax, tugging her gently and silently downward. My tip of my hard cock brushes against her face, and I'm reaching for my own crystalware and sipping liqueur as her licking moves on to hungry, sloppy, wet sucking. Her mouth engulfs me, and she whimpers as I urge her on with softspoken commands to service me. Her gloved hand is holding my sac and pumping me as she fills her mouth with my thickness and swabs me with her saliva. Her enthusiasm shows me how much fun she's had thus far, and how deeply her need to submit rests in her otherwise sarcastic soul. I'm feeling the back of her throat as she bobs her head, her lips tightening around me, her tongue coiling around the head as she sucks. I enjoy my drink, the strains of the contralto and bass as the opera proceeds, and I enjoy the wet, naughty slurping that my lover is making between my legs. I'm caressing her head, spiraling strands of her short hair between my fingers as I feel my abdomen tighten, and she knows that I'm about to cum. When I do, I hear the metal clasps to her ankle restraints, her muffled moans, her suckling, and feel her accepting my essence with passion.

She continues nursing on me for a while, and soon her head is in my lap. We caress. I tell her how I love her. She tells me how she loves me, and how she enjoys how I taste. The Berlin Philharmonic concludes the allegro.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Delicious—inspiring images to add to a wish list! You have a beautiful way with words filled with evocative sensuality.