Bed and Bondage

The room is warm, almost too warm. I am slightly damp from perspiration, and the

occasional draft makes me shiver.

The room is filled with a warm, diffuse light, sunlight through heavy lace

curtains, giving the place an antique feel. The air smells of potpourri, mingled

with red wine and musk.

My eyes travel lazily along the ceiling, until they reach the far wall, where a

full-length mirror stands across from the foot of the bed, tilted slightly

forward in its heavy oak frame. The image staring back at me from the mirror

commands my attention: a exquisite brass four-poster bed, and on it a beautiful

woman, naked, her arms stretched tautly over her head, and her legs reaching out

toward the posts at the foot of the bed.

That's me, with my wrists bound together by that long purple band of silk.

That's me, chest rising and falling more quickly than usual below tight, shiny

skin. That's me, lying there on the new beautiful bed we shopped for for so

long, and bought just for this purpose. That's me... finally. Absorbed as I am

in the image of myself, Robert's voice startles me. "You certainly are a

beautiful sight, love." I turn my attention to him, as he stands by the side of

the bed, a glass of wine in his hand, smiling warmly down at me.

"Robert, kiss me..." I start to say, but he leans over me, and presses his

finger to my lips, and says, "Shhhh. Not a sound."

But he kisses me anyway, lightly, gently, on the lips. He takes a sip of the

wine he is holding, then dips his finger into the glass. With his wet finger, he

traces my lips, then bends over and licks the wine from my lips. His

feather-light touch makes me shiver.

He continues with the wine, drawing his finger from behind my ear to the hollow

of my throat, then following with his tongue. He traces a line down between my

breasts; the evaporating alcohol is cold for a moment, but his tongue is warm

and soft. Mmmmmm.

I was unaware that I had actually made a sound, but Robert warns me again,

"Silence..."

And so I am silent, eager to please my lover and to make this moment perfect for

both of us.

A drop of wine on the left nipple, which hardens instantly, before he licks it

off with a mere brush of his tongue. And then the same to the right nipple. His

light, fleeting touch has awakened my sensitive nipples, and they cry out for

more. I arch my back toward his mouth, but he has already moved on to other

places.

A drop of wine on the soft underside of my arm. A almost-tickling lick along my

navel. A wet trail along the crease where my thigh meets my body. Each touch a

brief spark that awakens and arouses a new part of my body, just enough to tease

but not enough to satisfy.

He licks a trail of red off of my inner thigh, and I can't contain my gasp. My

whole body feels alive, itching for his touch. I want him to lick up, up, to

move his tongue between my legs, but he's gone again, standing next to the bed,

watching my flushed form on the bed. I look up at him, pleading with my eyes,

Robert, Robert, touch me...

"How can I resist those eyes?" he asks, with mock mournfulness. "You don't

really want me finish yet, do you?" My body cries yes, but at the same time I

savor the delicious frustration, and I know the answer. The question is

rhetorical.

Robert goes to the dresser by the bed, and returns with another broad band of

soft purple silk, like the ones that bind my wrists and ankles. This one he

drapes across my eyes, then lifts my head and ties it expertly in place.

The removal of vision heightens my other senses. I become aware of the sound of

cars in the distance, and the wind in the tree outside the window. I become

aware of the smell of Robert and the smell of me. I smile and relax, delighting

in hypersensitivity of my body and the feeling of anticipation.

I am not disappointed. Robert starts touching me again, returning to the top of

my body. He strokes my face with his fingers, and his touch is firmer now, more

demanding, more satisfying. He holds my hair, grasping it. Holding my head

firmly, he kisses me on the lips, deeply this time; no more fleeting touches,

this time his kiss is filled with passion, and I meet it with my own.

He breaks the kiss too soon, and leaves me gasping for air. Now he is rubbing my

body with smooth, firm strokes. He rubs my shoulders, my arms, my sides, my

belly. He rubs my breasts, and this time when I arch toward him, he doesn't pull

away. Instead, he holds them, kneads them. He grasps my nipples between his

fingers, first lightly, but with increasing pressure. A moan escapes my parted

lips, but Robert doesn't seem to mind; instead of a warning, he pinches my

nipples firmly and tugs, and I am suddenly dizzy from the pleasure.

Forgetting my situation, I reach up to wrap my arms around him, but the strip of

silk holds my hands tightly to the bar between the posts at the head of the bed.

Straining against the bonds accentuates my frustration and longing, and I moan

again.

Robert continues pulling on my nipples, till they reach a point just short of

pain, and my back is arched as far up as it will go. Once again, he breaks his

hold too quickly, but before I have a chance to feel disappointed, he replaces

his fingers with his mouth on my left nipple, sucking it in, pressing it between

his tongue and teeth, rolling it around with his tongue.

My breath is quick and ragged now, as I strain towards him. He grabs both

breasts in his hands, and shifts his mouth to the other nipple. Oooooh. It feel

so good. And then he stops.

He pauses, just long enough for the frustration to register on my face, and then

he resumes his broad hand strokes on my belly, and sliding down to my thighs. He

draws his hands down the outside of my legs, to my feet. He rubs each foot with

his palms, with just enough firmness to avoid tickling me. He rubs each toe with

his thumb and draws his fingers along my instep. Then he moves his hands back up

my legs, on the inside this time. His broad, smooth hands stop inches before

where my thighs meet.

No, don't stop, Robert...keep going...up, up, please. But I don't have to say

anything. He knows how badly I want him to touch me there, but instead he

massages my thighs. Each stroke brings him a hairsbreadth closer to my nether

lips. I strain against the bands on my ankles, but they hold my legs apart,

making me feel exposed and ready for his touch.

He strokes gently the line where my outer labia meet my thighs. The touch is

light and agonizing. And now he leans forward, and I can feel his warm breath

against my clit, stirring the wispy hair there. He blows against me, and the

coolness against the moisture there makes me jump. I arch toward him, but he

still doesn't touch me inside; he just keeps maddeningly stroking my outer lips.

He stops. Just as I am about to start begging him to touch me, he brushes my

exposed clit with another one of his quick, fleeting touches. The touch is an

electric shock through my body.

It is gone in an instant, but every muscle in my body tenses in that instant,

straining for his touch. After a moment, my breath returns and my muscles start

to relax, and he touches again, briefly, sending new waves of pleasure through

my taut body. Oh God, how much more of this can I stand? Please, please, keep

going, don't stop, Oh God, don't stop...

He stops. Again I start to relax, and this time I feel his tongue, pushing its

way between my folds. Carefully avoiding my clit, he licks around the foreskin.

He gently sucks my labia into his mouth, rubbing his tongue along the underside.

Then the other.

Then around the clit again. Then a quick flick of his tongue across the tip. I

gasp, realizing that I have been holding my breath. Again, the same electricity

courses through my body. Another moan.

After some more teasing, Robert licks my clit again, this time firmly. He draws

his tongue in circles around the head, and then sucks it into his mouth,

pressing it between his teeth and tongue.

Yes, yes! Holding my clit between his lips, he flicks it with increasing tempo

with his tongue. Then he sucks again, and for a timeless moment I am held on the

brink, as a washing, tingling pleasure starts to spread from between my legs up

my back.

He stops. The tingling recedes. No, no, don't stop! He lightly pinches my

thighs, and I realize that this time I've actually spoken. I continue to plead

with him, Robert, Robert, don't hold me here, touch me, touch me... I can't see

his face with my make-shift blindfold on, but I know he is smiling. That's what

he was waiting for.

With that, he slips a finger inside me, and I start thrusting eagerly against

his hand. His thumb rubs my clit, lightly but with increasing pressure, as the

rate of my thrusting increases. He slips another finger in, and starts his own

thrusting, faster and faster, pressing against my clit, rubbing it, teasing it.

I feel the tingling sensation start again. Please, Robert, let it happen...

and he keeps thrusting. Suddenly my whole body is awash with pleasure. I see

white light behind my eyelids, and every muscle in my body convulses. My legs

strain against the soft restraints but I have no awareness of being tied down.

For a brief, timeless moment I am floating, my entire being centered around

Robert's thrusting hand.

And before I land, before my convulsions subside, Robert is on me, and in me. He

thrusts with such ferocity, such passion, that he keeps me floating.

Unbelievably, the pleasure intensifies.

The entire world consists of me and Robert, pounding, thrusting, crying out in

pleasure, floating. I think I scream, but I'm not sure. The aching, insistent

pleasure lasts forever, and I hear Robert's own growling gasps as he joins me on

my exquisite plane of pleasure. Yes, Robert, Robert, I love you!

Slowly the pleasure subsides, the convulsions become less intense and further

apart. My body relaxes and I become aware of Robert's weight lying heavily on

top of me, of the ties that still bind my wrists and ankles. Without getting off

me, Robert slips the blindfold off over my head. As I knew it would be, his own

faced is flushed, his hair in disarray. Still staying in me, he reaches up and

unties the strip of cloth that holds my wrists together, and I bring them down

and wrap my arms tightly around him.

For a long time we stay that way, my lover's weight against my body, my arms

holding him close. For a long time we lay in our beautiful new bed, recovering

from its first use. Hopefully the first of many.