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First my ankles are cuffed, then my wrists. “Get comfortable”, you motion at the bed with a grin. There’s no way I’ll be comfortable, spread-eagled on the bed, exposed for your entertainment. A wand sits on the drawers, I can imagine you’ll be using that to force orgasms from me, but will you use my love of denial against me? Will you hold off or will you force immediate relief upon me – again and again?
I wriggle, shift and nestle myself down into the soft folds of the bedding. You take first one ankle, then the other. Drawing my legs wide, wide, wider. Then you gently take one wrist, attaching it to the corresponding corner. Finally you take my left wrist, draw the arm out just so, and I’m immobilised.
You slide onto the mattress next to me, looming over me.
Bright eyes sparkling with delight, you have treasure in your bed to torment and tease. Chastely kissing my lips you trail a finger down my taut body. Lower, lower and lower still. You dip a finger into my heat before continuing your descent, my arousal smearing a path down my inner thigh. Cool air laps at the boundary line as my flesh flames everywhere else.
Closing my eyes, I’m instantly invisible.
You can’t see me, cocooned behind my eyelids. Ridiculous, right? Especially considering I can hear you, murmuring observations about my body, my predicament, my vulnerability. Each eye opening blink reveals you, the intent on your face one of pure mischief. My brain swings back to delayed gratification being your choice of torment rather than immediate and repeated relief. Something about your smile. But I don’t know.
In an effort to stop my futile mind reading efforts I turn my head to the side.
The regret is immediate, no relief to be found in that view.
The mirrored wardrobe shows us to me. The naked flesh of my body, curves visible above the duvet where I’m sinking slightly. Your broad, strong back inclined over mine, waist band of your shorts covering the lean buttocks I’m so keen to bury my head between. Though this is clearly not on your radar at the moment. I’ll save that fantasy for another day.
“Comfortable?” Your voice draws me away from the promise of your asshole.
Your checks on my shoulders bring me back to my present situation. I nod and smile as our eyes meet. And then it begins. The torment.
Wand in hand you press it to me, gently. Turning it on, you allow the vibrations to wash over me. I’m on edge immediately, the play from earlier making me needy, a wanton slut between your sheets. Pulling against my bindings I rock my greedy sex up to meet your toy, to connect with your hand. But no, you’re cool, calm and in control. Easing the head gently down over my wet cunt the effect of the vibrations changes, I melt down into the bed, reset by the warm thrum that seeps into my body. And then you’re on the move again. Exploring me, teasing me, watching my reactions.
My rising hips searching for immediate relief.
Which leads to the reset, before you start to build again.
The onslaught continues, the next reset followed by a dildo pressing into me. Now you’re working hard with both hands. Thrusting and pressing, the focus on your face adds to my mounting pleasure. I feel the dildo twist inside of me, flick my G-spot as it’s withdrawn completely, beckoning my juices forth. The raging torrent little more than a trickle, but for a first venture into my gush-ability I’m impressed and momentarily distracted as the wand continues its welcome assault. But not for long. The heat, I can feel my cheeks turning claret, the rising tide of curse words barely held back.
Opening my mouth to ask permission I’m beaten to it by your “cum for me”.
Which I do.
Enthusiastically.
Body straining against the shackles, animalistic groans bubbling out of my throat, the intensity of my orgasm pulling me up and away from the bed. You’ve chosen to delay my gratification, but the relief is immediate upon your request. With swear words pummelling your ears you press the wand in firmly to my clitoris, the relief of gratification turned to post-orgasmic agony and ecstasy. Our eyes meet again, mischief glittering in the face of my torture. A single tear rolls over my burning left cheek and you relent, lean in, kiss and reassure me.
Admiring your handiwork, you step out to the bathroom.
I hear the familiar sounds of toys being washed in the sink and I wonder what you’ve used in me. But no, I’ve no time too wonder. You’re back, unfastening the side of me shackled to your preferred side, and you slide onto the bed next to me. Later, we’ll talk. There is plenty of time for that, no rush in our unhurried explorations. For now though, it’s time to rest and relax. You wrap me in your arms, kiss my face and ease us back down to earth.
Join me as I fly by the seat of my pants for the A-Z April Blogging Challenge 2023. You can find all of my posts for the month here. And you can also find previous years here. 2019 came first. I skipped 2020. 2021 was a full month of photography themed posts. And 2022 was a sparse collection of Q&A style writing, but there were plenty of boobs!.
From the story of how the barefoot sub became the woman she is today, to toy reviews, with a hefty dose of contemplation, a sprinkling of erotica and a LOT of nudity in between, you can be sure to find something to tickle your fancy at A Leap Of Faith.