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Newyears, Mild Bondage

Sometimes I think that I wish I was not me: Sometimes I fantasize that I have found your house, waited until Bill is on a business trip, the maid has the day off, and then I subtly slip into your house, to catch you at the computer, reading one of my stories.

When you reach up to re-fasten the towel around your damp hair, I quickly clasp the cuffs on your wrists, and place the blindfold over your eyes.

I pick you up and carry you to hang you from your wrists, your ankles bound, tape across your mouth. I leave the underwear on, spending the next hour touching, licking, and nibbling every exposed inch of skin. I treat each of your toes like a large clitoris, licking, nibbling and sucking on them as you writhe, wriggle, and protest, to no avail.

Then I move to your right wrist, then slowly down your arm. (Are your elbows ticklish? I bet they are!). Chewing and sucking my way to your armpit where I delight in the feminine glow.

On to the left wrist, repeating the pattern, gauging each response, enlarging upon the caresses when response is observed.

I move the oral attention to your neck and ears while I begin to dance my fingertips across your abdomen, skirting the ruffles again being sensitive to the reaction to each touch.

Back to the toes, this time to worry your ankles, then calves, then to the sensitive spots behind the knees. Do I detect perfume or is that your natural aroma? Regardless, I progress upwards to your cheeks, nibbling a bit more aggressively. At each juncture I experiment to determine whether the lick, suck, or bite is more effective in generating the desired level of movement.

I stop at the inside of the thigh, and pause to inhale the essence you are producing before returning to the opposite leg to continue.

Having explored every uncovered inch, I finally move to your breasts. They are so beautiful since by now your nipples are fully erect, rubbing against the lace with every movement, the gentle scraping like a mini-torture.

I pause to exhale, blowing the warm breath upon each, eliciting a quiver from first one, then the other.

I open the covering, allowing the lace to fall gently against your sides, which by now are so sensate that the touch of the delicate fabric alone elicits a shudder.

Remembering the convulsions from the exhalations, I kneel to proffer the same treatment to your covered mound while breathing in the perfume that is building in your scantly covered center.

Now that every touch causes a wriggle or a moan, I remove the cloth, revealing the delicate hair, perched like a crown over your beauty.

I grasp your hips with my fingers, squeezing your buttocks while pulling you forward to at last press my lips against your cleft. You are helpless to thwart or aid my advances: you cannot spread your legs, nor close them.

I begin to press my tongue insistently against the juncture, the saliva lubricating the path as the invasion presses inward.

Slowly I begin to move it between your lips, pressing firmly to part them as I taste of your nectar.

Resolutely the infiltration continues, until at last the penetration touches upon your most tender parts.

As a moan elicits from your lips with renewed vigor I delve ever deeper, pressing firmly against the slavering, pausing only to remove any excess that may escape before returning to educe even more, revering the secretions that have been released, before pressing again inward, burrowing ever more deeply.

Your legs are quivering, no longer able to hold your weight as the low moans breathlessly continue to slide past the tape: perspiration has formed over much of your skin, the aroma joining the other flavors as I continue my onslaught of your unprotected body.

I untie your ankles, spreading them to allow me more access. I nibble, lick and suck on your lips, removing the nectar that has formed, waiting between each advance for the effect to show in your mannerisms.

Teasingly I slip a finger between the lips, separating them as it probes inside, feeling the lips, then the walls, and finally reaching for your cervix. The flow has increased to a river running down your thighs, which I try to absorb to no avail.

A second finger joins the first, seeking your most sensitive spots as my tongue continues to wonder from perineum to clitoris, pausing occasionally to nibble at the erect nubbin.

Sensing your delight, I move a finger from my other hand through your juices, lubricating it before plunging it into your bottom as another finger joins the others, and I nip your clit.

I continue until the convulsions stop. I release you from your bonds, and lay you gently on your bed, cover you up, and kiss you good bye.




Joe











End of Story