Nine 'o' clock, the Witching Hour, as my husband and I call it. I sigh and stretch, feeling my back muscles pull and shift, the soft pop of kinks pulling out, the gentle touch of the cotton, long-sleeved t-shirt against my small breasts.
It's cold out, tonight, and we hadn't had time to light a fire in the woodstove, so I shiver, a little, at the touch against my cold stiffened nipples. The 501's are an ever present hug, and in my seated position, they are tight against my crotch. I lick and stick the last of the envelopes for the bills, and then get up to put them in the hallway to be mailed the next morning.
The running water upstairs has stopped, as has the noises of his activities. I sit back down, feeling the caress of my jeans, and read an article on a new learning model. Part of my mind is with him, thinking of the growing of his impatience, his anticipation. I check the doors to be sure they're locked, one last time, turn down the heat, and go upstairs.
When I first move into the room, I'm a little disappointed, as it looks as if he is simply asleep under the down comforter in the middle of the bed. The soft light of the reading lamp is golden over the parchment colored comforter, touching a gold shine off his dark hair. Then I see the rope tied, tightly, to the left leg of the bed, and I smile. His eyes open, his body turns, and I see the line of the rope as it moves with him, and the diagonal tilt of his body. I breathe deeply, and meet his sea blue gaze.
Slowly, I walk over to his side of the queen sized bed. His hands come into view as he moves the covers away from his face, one is cuffed, the cuffs joined, the other cuff dangles free. His eyes go to my face. I climb onto the bed, and straddle his turned chest, one leg with much of my weight on his lower arm. Then I wrap my long hands around the warm wrist of his other hand. His arm resists me, but I have my whole body's weight to put against his lone arm. It yields, slowly, the hardness of his muscles move against my mound, the tension playing his face making it beautiful in the lamplight, and then he yields completely when the wrist touches the other cuff. I snap it on and tie it tight, feeling his gaze on my face.
I get off the bed, pull the bindings of the cuffs and he follows, wiggling a little, on his side, until his wrists are just over the edge of the right side of the bed, and then I tie them to the upper right leg of the bed. I run a hand down his arm, slowing along the sensitive areas under his upper arm, a thumb brushes his nipple, he sighs. My other hand catches his chin, turns his face up from the pillows, and then I kiss him, slowly, deeply, my cold lips against his warm ones. He moans and his mouth opens to mine.
I thoroughly explore his mouth with my tongue, running it along the edges of his teeth, stroking his tongue with mine. And then I kiss him, hard, using my teeth on his lips, his tongue, his breathing shudders. I pull up. He looks at me, and pulls, restlessly, against the wrist restraint, and he sighs. I feather a kiss along his arm, tuck the covers around him, and then go and brush my teeth and pull out my contacts.
When I come back out, he looks at me. "On your front." I say as I fasten a ropes to the other two legs of the bed. I hear him turn and move. By the time I'm done, he is on his front. I unhook the cuff on this right leg and tie it to the right leg of the bed. I skin out of my clothes, and stretch, one more time, in the cold air, and then dive under the covers. His warm, relaxed body contracts, jumps at my cold embrace. The warm, smooth skin of his back and buttocks is like fire against my belly and breasts, and my ice block feet clamp onto his furry calves. He yelps at the shock, his body arching under me. I take advantage of it, and slip my cold hands and arms around him. My hands move to his belly. He bucks, but can't get me off of him, so he slowly settles with a shiver. And then I bury my cold nose and mouth against the center of his back. He jumps, but then only shudders under me.
Gradually, we both warm up. Then, with the warmth of the comforter on top of me, I straddle a leg, my mound against the hardness of the muscles of his thigh, and I start to kiss his back. I start with feathering kisses along his shoulders, my fingers and fingernails working, gently between his shoulder blades. Moving, pressing against the rolls of muscle along his spine, scratching and scratching along the areas of his back that cause him to start moving, under me. Slowly, I move down, pulling the comforter over my head, and in the warm darkness, I kiss and bite my way down his back. Licking and kissing and running my hands along his sides. His responsive movements against my pussy start to get me wet.
At the small of his back, I feel his body tense. I run my hands over the tightness of his buttocks. Then gently, I run two fingers, one along each leg, slowly up his inner thighs, and then my fingernails trail up along the soft flesh where his legs meet his buttocks. I feel his muscles clench, the soft hiss of his breath. Hands back, along his muscular thighs, and then I move further down, and out from under the comforter, off the bed. I keep one hand on an ankle, as I move his right leg back to the left.
"Roll over." I like watching the awkwardness of his movement, as his arm gets in the way, tangled with the comforter. The frustration as it fouls his face. I massage his feet, and then, slowly, let my hands roam up his legs, along the hard bulge of his calves, massaging, kneading. Then his thighs slowly, thoroughly touched and explored. He shivers and his eyes close, as I move further up, and the tension in his body slowly increases. His hips start to roll with the rhythm of my movement, and I feel the beginnings of a sweat raising on him. I gently put my palm against his balls, wrap my thumb and forefinger around his shaft, and then one, smooth slow stroke of the hand up, and then hard and fast down along the smooth skin of his already hard cock. I watch, avidly, as his whole body arches and a wordless cry is forced out of him.
I stop, and pull the comforter down to cover his toes. His eyes flash sapphire in the light as he gently pants. I walk around the bed to his head. I remove the pillows, fold the covers back to clear the top of his chest, and then straddle his face. His tongue reaches out, and, tentatively, begins to lick. I rub my sex against his nose, his smooth, just shaved chin, and his whole mouth starts to work on me. I moan and move with the sensations of his mouth as it softly probes and strokes me.
My hands start to explore his chest, ribs, and then under the covers, his belly. I feel the cold rush of his breath as I rub my palms against both his nipples, and again as I explore the soft, dampening hollows between his belly and hip bones. He moans against me as I start to play with his balls, the vibrations of his moans bring me down to my elbows, over his body.
I like them so much, I push the covers down to his knees. I get a hold of his cock with its crystal clear drop of pre-cum forming at its tip and start to lick and kiss the tip of it. His moaning is delicious against my clit. Then I take the whole tip in my mouth, stroking it with my tongue. He cries out, his hips moving, his hands pulling at the rope hard enough to make the bed frame creak. I stop, and rub myself against his mouth. I feel his gasping in the breaths against my clit, and in the movement of his body under mine, as he gets back to pleasuring me. I lie on him, my head on the top of his thigh and hip. My hair caressing his balls and shaft. He gradually works me into a frenzy, my legs hard against the headboard, my nails digging into his legs. My cries, sharp and gasping, as he pushes me over into orgasm, sound far away as the sensation takes my body and shakes it, hard. I fall forward.
For a while I rest, on top of him, his chin against my crotch. I lever myself up, turn around and thoroughly kiss his cum wet face, tasting my juices and scent on him as I use my lips on his mouth, nose, and cheeks. Then I move his bonds so that he is completely spread-eagle, and I blindfold him. I lie next to him, my body pressed up against his, my hand starts playing with his chest, his belly and ribs, and I start to use my tongue and lips on his highly sensitive ear. Gently taking the lobe of his ear with my tongue, and pulling it to my teeth, running the tip of my tongue around the edges of his ear, then along the snail shell spiral of its structure.
Slowly, thoroughly, even as my hand sooths and plays, teasing a nipple, combing through his pubic hair, running along the smoothness of his belly, through the thickness of the hair on his chest, dipping in his bellybutton, and along his sides. He jerks, shivers, gasps and his cock is soon at attention, quivering and wet, the beat of his heart mirrored in the tiny movement of its tip.
I get up, and kneel on either side of his head. His head turns, and his mouth gently kisses my calf. I lower my shoulders and head toward his crotch, gently take his cock and put my mouth on it, and then shove as much of him as I can all the way to the back of my throat. He screams, and I'm glad he's tied down as his whole body tries to fold around it.
Quickly, relentlessly, I do 15 hard, fast, thorough strokes, using the ring of my thumb and forefinger as a second, hard stimulus to follow my mouth, and ignoring the rhythm his hips try to impose on me, ignoring the tied down flailing of his body, and the cries behind me that get louder with each stroke, and then I stop. Well, ignoring them as far as my actions are concerned, I'm dripping by the time I stop. He moans and twitches, I feel his face blindly moving against my leg. I tighten the ring of my fingers at the base of his cock, and it eventually softens.
Five more sets of 15 strokes, and he is incoherent, his breathing is a sobbing, and his body is a hard mass of tension and shivering. We are both dripping with sweat, all the covers are on the floor. One more set and he is so hard, I know he's just on the brink.
For a long moment I just look at him, all tensioned muscle, hard flat belly, broad shoulders, arms cabled against the bonds, thighs big enough that my hands can't reach around them, and over it all the soft sheen of sweat and the glint of the golden highlights of his brown hair on his arms, legs and chest. I take off the blindfold, and for a moment, his eyes are still blind, wild and lost in sensation. I slide a condom over his cock, and with each stroke I use in putting it on, he sighs and shivers. Then his eyes start to focus on me, and as they look, I slowly, gently, slide my pussy over his cock.
His eyes roll up, showing white as his arms bulge against his bonds. I put all my weight on my hands on his belly, pushing to keep him from pushing up into me.
"Still," I say, and he shudders, his fists close, but he is still.
He whimpers as I ever-so-slowly move down, his head moves, restlessly. My breath hisses through my teeth as his swollen hardness fills me. With my palms flat against his belly, I start to move, using his cock to massage my cunt, sometimes coming completely off it to rub it against my clit, only to get on it again and push it to the hilt.
He is very, very good about staying still under me, and I enjoy the cost to him, as I watch his muscles knot and gnarl, his face slowly taking on a rictus that could be as much agony as ecstasy. I move my hands so that they are either side of his face. He turns and kisses my wrist.
"Okay," I say and he starts to move under me.
But then I start moving on him very quickly, too quickly for his rhythm to build, and soon he is crying out with every stroke. My breathing soon syncs with the strokes as well, and I'm able to use each breath for a harder push until I'm pounding against him. His mouth opens in a soundless scream as the tension builds until the whole bed frame creaks with each stroke.
Then he snaps, his whole body arcing, and five hard, fast, wild bouncing strokes later, I cum as well, and I hear/feel him cry out as my inner muscles rhythmically milk every last drop from him. I collapse on top of him, still orgasming.
He involuntarily moves into me, and my muscles spasm into a tight hold on him. Gradually, the exchange of involuntary stimulus slows, and, eventually, stops, as our breathing slows. His heart pounds under my ear, an almost sobbing sigh moves through his body.
I get up, and our breaths hiss as he leaves me. We kiss, long, slow and deep. I stroke his cheek and his face
turns to place a kiss in the center of my palm. I tiredly climb out and untie all the ropes, pull off his cuffs, gently get rid of the condom, get him some TP, clean myself off, pull the covers back onto the bed, and then fall in. I curl up against him, feel his arms close around me, and hear his deep, soft, now sleepy voice say, "Thank you."
I kiss his cheek and happily say, "You're very welcome."
And the warm, dark oblivion of sleep takes me over.
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Cover art by Barabba Barabbino
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