ithariel
03-15-2003, 12:54 AM
Wrote this while I was at work today, would appreciate any feedback. Thanks.
Ith
---
I'm on my back, on a bed, my hands attached to the headboard with fur-lined cuffs, the same on my ankles attached to a spreader bar. A blindfold covers my eyes, depriving me of sight and heightening my other senses; it's the only thing I wear. At first, all I hear is my own shallow breathing, waiting, anticipating. Then, I hear footsteps approaching. The faint squeal of a hinge and my pulse quickens, knowing you stand there in the doorway, your eyes drinking in my restrained form, watching the rise and fall of my chest quicken and deepen as I try to control myself, the slight tug I give the cuffs as I squirm, testing their resistance, trying in vain to get free. But you know I don't want to be freed. You know I crave this, need this. My erect cock is sign enough of that.
Biting my lower lip, I wait for you. I can feel your eyes on me, hear your own breathing, and I wait, nervous, wondering what you will do. I wish I could see you,, see the look on your face, but that's not what you wanted. The note with your instructions was quite plain about that. And so I wait, wondering, self-aware and self-conscious of the slow pulse in my cock, giving away my arousal, my need, my quiet desperation. I'm shaken from my reverie by the sound of you moving, the faint scent of your shampoo growing stronger, the slight stirring of the air heralding your approach. I turn towards where I think you are, next to the bed, but quickly discover my mistake as, from the other side, I feel you lean down, your lips scant millimeters away from my ear, breath hot against my flesh, stirring me. You wait there a moment, letting me bask in the caress of warm air across my skin, and then you speak, low dulcet tones, almost bordering on a moan, the sound and feel of your voice alone enough to make me arch my hips upwards slightly.
"Mmm. I see you followed my instructions. You look so cute, like that, tied up and waiting for me. Hard for me. You want me, don't you?" Your lips so close to my ear make me think of how much I want your mouth against me, want to feel the hot, wet caress of your tongue on me, and I shiver, nodding, opening my mouth to talk, but you press your finger to my lips, silencing me. "Shhh." Instead I press my lips more firmly against your finger n a reverent kiss, and I'm rewarded with a soft, breathy laugh.
And then you pull away, rising. I turn my head once more in your direction, to the side and slightly up, trying to look at you without seeing you, and you take the opening, leaning in to let your breath run hot against my neck, drawing a quiet gasp from me. Beginning to move, I feel the nearness of your lips as you descend to my chest, to one side, warm air caressing my nipple, teasing it to hardness. And then the other, watching it grow erect in anticipation of the warm, wet touch that won't come.
Slowly, you travel further down, breath teasing me with the nearness of your mouth. Moving past my belly, you pause, and move to one side, letting me feel the hot, moist air against the line of my pelvis, following it until I can feel you breathing against my balls, watching them tighten in expectance. And then, suddenly, drawing another gasp from me, cold air as you purse your lips, blowing against them and slowly moving upwards, tracing the underside of my cock with the chilled breath, making me shiver.
And then you pause, mouth hovering over the head of my cock. In my mind I can see you opening your mouth wider, as though to engulf me, and I try in vain to push my hips upwards, wanting so badly to feel your mouth on me, your tongue caressing my cock, urging me to come. But instead you pull away, laughing softly once more, watching my cock twitch, knowing what I'm thinking, what I'm wanting, what I'm desperate for.
Once more I feel you close in at my ear, biting my lip, and then shivering and letting out a quiet whimper as I feel your fingertips brush against me, caressing the back of my ear as you whisper to me. "Your cock is so hard, so swollen, so beautiful. Are you so hard thinking about my hands, my mouth, my breasts, my pussy? Is that what you're thinking about right now, sliding your cock into me? Is that for me?" Letting out a quiet moan, I nod, and you give yet another quiet, soft laugh. "Good boy." I shiver at those words, a shaky moan escaping me, and you begin to move your fingers down my neck, making me arch my back and break out in gooseflesh. I can almost feel the satisfaction and lust rolling off of you, and I can smell you, your scent, your closeness driving me nearly mad with desire.
The brush of your fingernail against the tip of my nipple brings me back, making me arch my back and moan softly, almost femininely, and you pause. Your nail brushes the tip of my other nipple, elliciting a similar reaction and you toy with me for a few minutes like this, watching me squirm and moan. Then you continue to move lower, your fingers caressing their way down my belly, grinning as I squirm at the slight tickle, and then down my thighs, watching as I try futilely to spread them against the spreader bar, bending my knees slightly. Coming back up my inner thighs, I freeze, and let out a quiet groan as your hands cup my groin, my balls tight and full against your palms. My mouth moves, forming soundless words, silently mouthing "please" over and over.
And then, bliss. Your hand loosely circles around the base of my cock and begins to slowly climb it, the light caress pulling a long ragged moan from my lips, my shaft twitching and throbbing in your hand. I can't keep my silence any more. Mixed with my tortured moans, I tell you how much I need you, how much I want you, tell you how good your hand feels, and I beg. I plead. But you take no heed of it, my desperation merely fueling your desire to see me writhe. Your slow, gentle, teasing stroking continues, and occassionally, you lean down, dragging your tongue heavily but ever so slowly across the head of my cock, against the underside, circling, making me beg more, squirm more, need more.
So it goes, for minutes, hours, days? I don't know. Time has lost relevance. All that exists right now are you and I, the sensations you create in me, and the control you exert over me. I ask for permission to come every time I draw near, and every time you grant it, but every time you release me, watching my cock twitch, red, swollen, aching, ready to explode. Over and over, you do this to me. I'm almost incoherent with desire, the need to come filling my mind, pushing out all else. You can see what you've done to me, see it in my pleasured, yet agonized expression, see it in the way my body moves, hear it in my voice, feel it in the pulse of my cock. And that's when you lean in.
"I'm going to make you come now. I'm going to stroke you so slowly, so gently that you won't think you'll be able to come from it. But you will. And maybe, just maybe, fif you're a very good boy, my pet, I'll give you a reward." And so you stroke me, even more softly than you had before, and it takes forever, slowly building me up, my desire filling me, sending me over the edge of madness, squirming, unable to control myself. And then, just as I reach the edge, just as I'm about to explode, I feel your mouth engulf me, and it's too much. Your tongue writhes against the underside of my cock, and I explode, jet after jet of hot come being drawn out by you, my voice filled with pure orgasmic bliss and ragged moans as I thank you over and over, the pulsing, throbbin, tingling, draining, explosive orgasm seeming to go on forever.
And then I collapse to the bed, unable to give any more, my cock already wilting in your mouth as you lovingly and tenderly suckle on it, lapping at it, making me shiver uncontrollably as I pant, sending waves of pleasure coursing through my body, my mind. And, as you crawl up my body, wrapping your arms around me and holding me, cuddling against me and whispering softly against me how good I was, I give a little shiver and sigh contentedly, and it fades to black.
Ith
---
I'm on my back, on a bed, my hands attached to the headboard with fur-lined cuffs, the same on my ankles attached to a spreader bar. A blindfold covers my eyes, depriving me of sight and heightening my other senses; it's the only thing I wear. At first, all I hear is my own shallow breathing, waiting, anticipating. Then, I hear footsteps approaching. The faint squeal of a hinge and my pulse quickens, knowing you stand there in the doorway, your eyes drinking in my restrained form, watching the rise and fall of my chest quicken and deepen as I try to control myself, the slight tug I give the cuffs as I squirm, testing their resistance, trying in vain to get free. But you know I don't want to be freed. You know I crave this, need this. My erect cock is sign enough of that.
Biting my lower lip, I wait for you. I can feel your eyes on me, hear your own breathing, and I wait, nervous, wondering what you will do. I wish I could see you,, see the look on your face, but that's not what you wanted. The note with your instructions was quite plain about that. And so I wait, wondering, self-aware and self-conscious of the slow pulse in my cock, giving away my arousal, my need, my quiet desperation. I'm shaken from my reverie by the sound of you moving, the faint scent of your shampoo growing stronger, the slight stirring of the air heralding your approach. I turn towards where I think you are, next to the bed, but quickly discover my mistake as, from the other side, I feel you lean down, your lips scant millimeters away from my ear, breath hot against my flesh, stirring me. You wait there a moment, letting me bask in the caress of warm air across my skin, and then you speak, low dulcet tones, almost bordering on a moan, the sound and feel of your voice alone enough to make me arch my hips upwards slightly.
"Mmm. I see you followed my instructions. You look so cute, like that, tied up and waiting for me. Hard for me. You want me, don't you?" Your lips so close to my ear make me think of how much I want your mouth against me, want to feel the hot, wet caress of your tongue on me, and I shiver, nodding, opening my mouth to talk, but you press your finger to my lips, silencing me. "Shhh." Instead I press my lips more firmly against your finger n a reverent kiss, and I'm rewarded with a soft, breathy laugh.
And then you pull away, rising. I turn my head once more in your direction, to the side and slightly up, trying to look at you without seeing you, and you take the opening, leaning in to let your breath run hot against my neck, drawing a quiet gasp from me. Beginning to move, I feel the nearness of your lips as you descend to my chest, to one side, warm air caressing my nipple, teasing it to hardness. And then the other, watching it grow erect in anticipation of the warm, wet touch that won't come.
Slowly, you travel further down, breath teasing me with the nearness of your mouth. Moving past my belly, you pause, and move to one side, letting me feel the hot, moist air against the line of my pelvis, following it until I can feel you breathing against my balls, watching them tighten in expectance. And then, suddenly, drawing another gasp from me, cold air as you purse your lips, blowing against them and slowly moving upwards, tracing the underside of my cock with the chilled breath, making me shiver.
And then you pause, mouth hovering over the head of my cock. In my mind I can see you opening your mouth wider, as though to engulf me, and I try in vain to push my hips upwards, wanting so badly to feel your mouth on me, your tongue caressing my cock, urging me to come. But instead you pull away, laughing softly once more, watching my cock twitch, knowing what I'm thinking, what I'm wanting, what I'm desperate for.
Once more I feel you close in at my ear, biting my lip, and then shivering and letting out a quiet whimper as I feel your fingertips brush against me, caressing the back of my ear as you whisper to me. "Your cock is so hard, so swollen, so beautiful. Are you so hard thinking about my hands, my mouth, my breasts, my pussy? Is that what you're thinking about right now, sliding your cock into me? Is that for me?" Letting out a quiet moan, I nod, and you give yet another quiet, soft laugh. "Good boy." I shiver at those words, a shaky moan escaping me, and you begin to move your fingers down my neck, making me arch my back and break out in gooseflesh. I can almost feel the satisfaction and lust rolling off of you, and I can smell you, your scent, your closeness driving me nearly mad with desire.
The brush of your fingernail against the tip of my nipple brings me back, making me arch my back and moan softly, almost femininely, and you pause. Your nail brushes the tip of my other nipple, elliciting a similar reaction and you toy with me for a few minutes like this, watching me squirm and moan. Then you continue to move lower, your fingers caressing their way down my belly, grinning as I squirm at the slight tickle, and then down my thighs, watching as I try futilely to spread them against the spreader bar, bending my knees slightly. Coming back up my inner thighs, I freeze, and let out a quiet groan as your hands cup my groin, my balls tight and full against your palms. My mouth moves, forming soundless words, silently mouthing "please" over and over.
And then, bliss. Your hand loosely circles around the base of my cock and begins to slowly climb it, the light caress pulling a long ragged moan from my lips, my shaft twitching and throbbing in your hand. I can't keep my silence any more. Mixed with my tortured moans, I tell you how much I need you, how much I want you, tell you how good your hand feels, and I beg. I plead. But you take no heed of it, my desperation merely fueling your desire to see me writhe. Your slow, gentle, teasing stroking continues, and occassionally, you lean down, dragging your tongue heavily but ever so slowly across the head of my cock, against the underside, circling, making me beg more, squirm more, need more.
So it goes, for minutes, hours, days? I don't know. Time has lost relevance. All that exists right now are you and I, the sensations you create in me, and the control you exert over me. I ask for permission to come every time I draw near, and every time you grant it, but every time you release me, watching my cock twitch, red, swollen, aching, ready to explode. Over and over, you do this to me. I'm almost incoherent with desire, the need to come filling my mind, pushing out all else. You can see what you've done to me, see it in my pleasured, yet agonized expression, see it in the way my body moves, hear it in my voice, feel it in the pulse of my cock. And that's when you lean in.
"I'm going to make you come now. I'm going to stroke you so slowly, so gently that you won't think you'll be able to come from it. But you will. And maybe, just maybe, fif you're a very good boy, my pet, I'll give you a reward." And so you stroke me, even more softly than you had before, and it takes forever, slowly building me up, my desire filling me, sending me over the edge of madness, squirming, unable to control myself. And then, just as I reach the edge, just as I'm about to explode, I feel your mouth engulf me, and it's too much. Your tongue writhes against the underside of my cock, and I explode, jet after jet of hot come being drawn out by you, my voice filled with pure orgasmic bliss and ragged moans as I thank you over and over, the pulsing, throbbin, tingling, draining, explosive orgasm seeming to go on forever.
And then I collapse to the bed, unable to give any more, my cock already wilting in your mouth as you lovingly and tenderly suckle on it, lapping at it, making me shiver uncontrollably as I pant, sending waves of pleasure coursing through my body, my mind. And, as you crawl up my body, wrapping your arms around me and holding me, cuddling against me and whispering softly against me how good I was, I give a little shiver and sigh contentedly, and it fades to black.