The last knot has been secured in place. You step back to admire your handiwork and smile as you take in the scene before you.
Your eyes meet mine. “Are you ready, baby?”
“Yes, Sir. I am,” I answer.
“Good.” You step forward and lean in front of me.
You asked me earlier to pull the lounge chair from the corner of the bedroom forward so there would be enough space to secure bindings on all sides. The position of the chair allows you to walk around completely to view every angle of your masterpiece.
Patiently I wait, bound, wearing nothing but the rope secured around my hands, arms, thighs, and ankles. Before you began tying me to the chair, you used a towel to wrap around each arm of the chair to provide more support under my thighs. Each leg drapes over the arms of the chair and is tied down. Every part of me is open and exposed. My hands have been tied together, arms over head with hands resting behind my head. My upper arms bound to my ankles.
“One last thing.” Your right hand disappears into the right pocket of your slacks and out slips a black silk blindfold. My breath catches in anticipation and my teeth press forcefully into my lower lip. Slowly, you walk around the chair to my back. The heat of your body radiates to my bound hands secured behind my head. You step closer and rest your stiff shaft against my hands. I instinctively wrap my fingers around you and offer a soft moan. Your cock responds to my touch, twitching as I grip firmly. Holding you in my hands feels so right at this moment.
A growl escapes your lips, “Mmmm, that feels amazing, but not just yet.''
You step back and my hands are left grasping at the air. I feel you lean forward and grip the back of the chair with your left hand. The blindfold dangles from your right hand over my chest and caresses my smooth, creamy white breasts. Slowly, the fabric drags up my chest and neck. I feel you lean down and your breath is warm against my ear.
"Baby, do you trust that I will take good care of you?” you ask.
“Yes, of course,” I answer immediately.
Your lips drag against my neck and you whisper, “Good girl,” into my skin. Your tongue peeks through your lips and lingers. I feel the scratchiness of your beard press against me. I sigh loudly. A trail of lingering kisses up my neck, cheek and ear makes my skin prickle. My nipples harden and darken. The blindfold now lies across my neck, one end held in each hand, and is pressed gently to my throat.
“Remind me who this beautiful girl belongs to,” you request.
“Sir… I belong to you,” I answer. The blindfold moves over my neck, gently passes my lips, nose, and eventually covers my eyes. The ends of the fabric are crossed behind my head and secured with a knot. Your fingers move from the blindfold and drag through my hair, massaging my scalp.
“Mmmm,” I purr.
“Can you see anything?” you ask.
“I cannot,” I answer.
Your hands move slowly from my hair around my neck. My head drops back as your fingers slide around my throat and gently squeeze.
“You will feel. You will do many things for me, my pretty girl,” you reply.
I whimper softly when your lips touch mine. Slowly, your tongue pushes past them and into my mouth. My whimpers turn to moans as our kiss deepens and I feel your hands move down my neck and around each breast. I attempt to rock my hips, forgetful of the bindings you recently secured. Heat begins to build in my core as your hands alternate between squeezing and rolling my breasts to pinching and pulling at my nipples. My tongue lashes out to find yours, desperate for your mouth, but you pull away slightly to slow me down.
“Slow down baby,” you whisper and then chuckle softly. “I love how needy you are right now. You’re being such a good girl.”
Your hands release me and you give each mound a gentle slap before walking around the lounge chair to stand in front of me.
For a moment you say nothing. A moment or two passes, and you finally say, “I wish you could see how beautiful you look.”
There is a pause and I hear your phone click. I know you just took my picture, and I smile. Another click and pause, longer this time. I can’t figure out where you are, or hear what you are doing. I shift slightly, raising my hips and lowering them to get more comfortable. The sound of clothes coming off and landing on the ground seems so loud in the quiet. I freeze in anticipation of your touch. The chair cushion sinks as you kneel on it between my legs, one foot on the floor, right hand placed firmly on my left thigh.
“Baby, I’d like to play a game. Would you like to play along? It’s going to drive you wild.” I can visualize the grin on your face as you ask.
“Yes, Sir, I would love to play,” I reply.
“Good girl…” you trail off and shift your hips to line the tip of your cock with my clit.
“Can you feel that baby?” you ask, rubbing the head up and down, back and forth against my swelling clit. I moan and buck my hips at your touch.
“Yes, Sir… I can feel it… mmmm,” I groan. I realize how restricted I am struggling to swirl my hips and buck for more friction against your cock head. My pussy gushes and drips to my ass, collecting along my tight little hole.
“Good girl.” You pull back far enough from my reach and lean over me, placing one hand on the back of the chair. Your lips nibble my ear and you speak gently, “I’m going to continue tapping your delicious clit and as I do, we are going to count to fifty together. Do you think you can do that with me?” You nuzzle into my neck and place kisses from my earlobe to my collar bone and back.
My breathing deepens and I whimper softly, “Yes, Sir, I want to count to fifty with you”. I can feel my labia swell and become warm. I imagine what I must look like right now. So wet, so open, so much need.
“Good girl,” you whisper and place a gentle but firm kiss on my lips. You break our kiss and position yourself in front of me once more, one hand on my inner thigh, the other holding your rock hard cock against my clit. “Okay baby, begin.”
You tap the head of your cock against my clit and I moan “Mmm one… two… three... four... five... oooohhhhhh…”
You stop tapping. "So we are clear… no cumming until we reach fifty, do you understand?”
“Yes, Sir, I understand.” I bite my lower lip to keep from gyrating my hips as hard as I possibly can to make contact with your cock. My pussy is slick with my juices, coating each labia and my open, needy entrance.
“Good girl… resume,” you say as your cock makes contact with my clit again. Tap… tap… tap…
“9… 10...11..12..13.14.15.16.17…” I chant as your pace quickens. My clit aches and throbs for that quick pace but I begin to lose track of what number I am on and you pull back once more.
“Breathe, baby. You are doing so well. You have no idea how delicious you look right now.” You rest your cock on the smooth skin just above my clit and I thrash wildly against my bindings, moaning loudly, needing to feel more.