It was our six month anniversary. We celebrated with an evening out and a quiet dinner; me in a suit and tie, Sandra in a little black, cum-fuck-me dress, which she insisted on wearing despite the frigid winter weather.
Her long, strawberry blonde hair sparkled in the flickering firelight; bright red lipstick and manicured nails contrasted with her fair skin; and a double string of white pearls sparkled around her neck. Freckles on her cheeks gave her the little girl appearance that I liked. She was easily the best looking woman in the room. Even our waiter seemed to pay more attention to her than to others in the dining room, including me.
The mid-thigh length dress clung to Sandra’s body like a second skin, revealing considerable cleavage, the sloping curve of her ass, and much of her toned, athletic thighs. Still, it was not much to wear when the outside temperature was below freezing.
If things went as I hoped, and Sandra’s manner of dress certainly suggested that it would, I looked forward to getting home and slipping that tiny piece of fabric off her luscious body.
How we got onto the subject of sex so early in the evening, I do not recall. Nonetheless, that was the hushed topic. Sandra was enjoying her second glass of burgundy, picking at a salad, and telling a detailed story about what one of her girlfriends like to do in bed.
Sandra liked sex, often initiating our encounters. And, she had the erotic mind and sensuous body to be really good at it. She took some pride in being a woman who was confident in her sexual abilities.
Despite her confidence, and perhaps because we were still relatively new in our relationship, Sandra sometimes expressed a concern that I might think less of her because of her sexually interests and desires. Her revealing that one of her girlfriends liked or did something in the bedroom seemed more of an attempt to validate Sandra’s own interests and likes rather than a simple tale of a friend’s secret desires and activities. If one of Sandra’s girlfriends liked doing something in the bedroom, it was okay for Sandra to like it too. If a girlfriend did something that might be considered sexually unusual or different, then it was acceptable behavior for Sandra. If her pal Bonnie liked to take it in the ass, then Sandra could do anal as well without seeming to be “different” or a slut.
Whether any of her revelations were the truth or just something to cover and approve her own wants and needs, I do not know. It was not necessary for her to tell me the tales. But if they helped Sandra to explain her own needs and desires, what was the harm.
By a warm, dancing flame, in an old colonial fireplace, Sandra whispered her story about a friend being tied to a bed for the first time and greatly enjoying the experience.
“Have you ever done that?” She asked in a soft voice.
“I have.”
Sandra seemed surprised at my quick and direct response.
“What was it like? What did you do?”
Our waiter served our entree, ogling Sandra’s cleavage once again as he positioned each plate on the table. He took an even closer look as he poured more wine into her glass. It gave me time to think about my answer.
I kept my response general, not wanting to offer details of my sexual experiences with other women. I did include enough specifics to convey that I had, indeed, restrained more than one lady during sex. I leaned forward, and with a quickening heart beat, I whispered that I had particularly enjoyed teasing the ladies until they could take no more and begged for some relief. Sandra’s eyes widened, she stopped chewing her food, and her face flushed.
There followed a sufficient period of silence that I thought maybe I had said too much; raised a topic that she did not care for; or, said something that made her uncomfortable. I could feel my heart beating in my chest, and in those few seconds of silence, a slight gloss of regret sweat broke out on my forehead.
“Michael, that’s my biggest sexual fantasy.” Sandra whispered across the table, with more than a hint of excitement mixed with a slight flush of embarrassment.
“Being tied up?” I asked.
“Being tied up and teased.” She replied, looking around the room to see if anyone was listening to her private disclosure.
I welcomed the waiter’s interruption, asking if everything was okay, pouring more wine, and not too subtly eyeing Sandra’s breasts.
“How serious are you about it?” I asked, after the waiter had departed.
“What are you proposing?” She coyly asked with a little smile and glint in her eye.
“You and I exploring your fantasy,” I paused for a second or two, and then leaned across the table so she would be sure to hear me. “Interested?”
Sandra stared down at her plate and moved some food around with her fork.
“Tonight?” She asked, looking around once again to see if anyone was listening.
“Yes. Tonight.”
Another pause as she eyed the food on her plate again.
“Yes,” she said with conviction, not caring who might hear her.
It was only one word; one affirmative response. Yet in that one word Sandra expressed her excitement, nervousness, and eagerness to be restrained and pleasured.
Nothing was said for another long minute or two.
“I need to say something, and please don’t take it the wrong way,” Sandra finally said, looking uncomfortable. “I need it to be rough.”
She stared at me looking for a reaction.
“Rough?” I asked, emphasizing my question with a tilt of my head and raised eyebrows.
“We shouldn’t talk about it now.” She said, looking nervously around the dining room.
If Sandra had just said something positive about wanting to be restrained, and suggested that she might be interested in some rough play as well, I would have been more than excited, and rushed to finish dinner so we could get home. But she had included a phrase that I had learned long ago never refers to something positive: don’t take this the wrong way.
Whatever it was, whatever she had to say that I should not take the wrong way, made her uncomfortable. Whatever that something was, she thought that I might not want to hear it. That made me uncomfortable, as well.
……………………..
The inside of the car was freezing. I turned up the climate control and the window defroster, and headed out onto the road to Sandra’s place.
“And what is it about rough that we couldn’t talk about at dinner?” I asked.
“I shouldn’t have said anything.” She said, looking out the passenger side window.
“What is it about you wanting rough sex that I might take the wrong way?”
“I love what we do in bed. You are a very good lover. You satisfy me in every way.”
“And?” I said, after an awkward silence.
“You are very good at sex, and the most erotic man I have ever met.”
Awkward silence again.
“But?” I finally asked, sensing that there was more that she wanted to say.
“I’d like the sex to be rougher. I want you to be rougher with me. I don’t want you to be afraid to make it hurt a little.”
I had been fucking Sandra almost from the time of our first date. I always made her cum, and there were never any complaints. Now I’m told that in all that time, Sandra did not think that I had been rough enough. I should have accepted the revelation as something positive; something that would make our intimate times together that much more interesting and pleasurable. I should have, but I did not. It was a hit to my male ego.
“And how am I supposed to take that?”
It was a stupid question, but all I could think of at the time.
“It’s not a criticism. Please don’t take it that way. It’s a suggestion; an idea; something we can consider adding when we play.”
Sandra could phrase it however she wanted. The bottom line was that it was not just something that we could consider adding. And it was not just a suggestion. It was something that she wanted; something she needed; something that was important to her which had been missing from our love making; something that I had not provided. It bothered me that all this time I had not been satisfying Sandra’s sexual needs; providing what she wanted. What else was I not doing? What else had she not told me?
Sandra leaned over the car’s center console and placed her hand on my upper thigh, groping for my manhood.
“Tonight you discovered my biggest fantasy. I want to be tied up and teased until I cum. I have never told anyone about that before, not even my girlfriends. I have the opportunity to explore that fantasy tonight and make it come true. And you are the one who I want to be with when the fantasy becomes a reality. I just want it to be perfect; the way I’ve dreamed about it.”
“And I’ve not been rough enough?” I asked, ignoring her explanation and hand exploring my groin.
“I just want you to know that when you tie me up and tease me tonight, you can be as rough as you want. I’d like that. I’ll tell you if it’s too much.”
I wasn’t listening. My male ego had been bruised, and self-doubt about my sexual abilities had already filled my mind like a dark cloud.
………………………..
Funny thing about men: while the male ego and big brain may harbor a hurt for days or longer, that little brain between our legs has a mind of its own. Sandra’s hand had succeeded in coaxing a full erection which now strained against my pant leg. Encouraged by my male demonstration of interest, Sandra ran her fingernails over the swelling head of my cock, teasing me. The hurt was still there, but my eagerness to fuck Sandra had returned. I stepped on the gas pedal.
“Do you have anything that we can use to tie you to your bed?”
“I’ll find something.” She said, as she unzipped my pants, freed my swollen pole from its constraints, and wrapped her soft lips around the head of my shaft.
It was a thirty minute drive back to Sandra’s house. It was an enjoyable, if not dangerous ride back.
………………………
Once inside Sandra’s house, coats were quickly thrown over the back of a chair, and high heels kicked off. There was an eagerness to get to the task, and Sandra quickly led me up the stairs to her bedroom.
Standing in front of a full length mirror, Sandra turned her back to me and held her hair up and out of the way. I unclasped her necklace, and as she held the pearl strands in her hand and removed her earrings, I undid the top of the little black dress and slowly pulled the zipper all the way down to her almost bare ass. With my hands on her shoulders, I gently slid the tiny dress off, letting it fall to the floor. I stared into the mirror, ogling Sandra in her black bra and tiny g-string, her long blonde hair and alabaster skin, appreciating what was about to be mine. I held her bare hips and kissed her neck and shoulders, eliciting a low moan of pleasure.
“I am so wet right now.” She admitted.
Sandra reached behind and undid her bra, exposing her firm, white mounds and hard, red nipples, each of which stood out like a new pencil eraser. I reached around and softly cupped each breast while rolling each nipple softly between my fingers and thumb.
“Mmmmmm. That feels so good!” She moaned.
She is a beautiful lady with a body men dream about, and I was about to have her in the most intimate of ways.
Sandra went off to look for something we could use to tie her up, her tits swaying back and forth and up and down as she walked out of the bedroom.
While I undressed, I looked around the room for toys I could use to tease and pleasure the lady. There were two hair brushes on her make-up table, one with a rough, round, plastic handle and hard bristles, and the other with a smooth square, wood handle and softer bristles. A quill-like pen with a big feather adorned her dresser. I found two vibrators in her night stand draw, one rocket-shaped and the other the size of a lip stick case. Along with the vibrators was an 8” dildo. Under the dildo was a pair of silver nipple clips, still in an unopened package. A quick trip into the bath located a tube of lubrication and a towel.
I opened the nipple clip package and placed everything but the towel on the night stand next to the bed. I draped the towel over the head board, to be used as necessary.
Sandra returned with a few potential restraints. A thin rope and a thick piece of ribbon looked like they would break or tear if tugged too hard. The third option, a thick, soft rope, would work just fine.
I sat down on the easy chair in the corner of Sandra’s bedroom and removed my shoes and socks. Sandra followed and stood in front of me, wearing only her tiny g-string. We were about to embark on her biggest fantasy, yet she seemed not quite sure what she should be doing. She just stood there, shaking a bit with excitement. It was time for me to take control.
Sandra knew that I wanted to be the one who removed her panties. I motioned to her to step forward. The g-string was nothing more than a thin, black string, holding a small patch of black material which just covered her labia. Describing the tiny string as panties would be a stretch. I reach up and ran my thumbs under the string and slowly slid the little black triangle down Sandra's legs and off her feet and ankles. I could feel Sandra’s body quiver and her legs shake.
“Spread your legs a little.” I told her.
As I had done a number of times before, I slowly and lightly ran the fingers of one hand up the front of her leg, while doing the same on the back of her leg. I reached her pussy with the fingers of both hands at the same time, eliciting a low moan and several little body jerks.
“Fuck. That feels so good,” She murmured.
Sandra held onto my shoulders as I ran my fingers along her flowering, wet lips, opening her pussy and letting her juices flow.
“I want to fuck you so bad right now.” She said with a quivering voice.
I got off the chair, put my hand gently on her ass cheek and walked her to her bed. For the first time, Sandra saw the toys I had collected and put on her night stand. She smiled her approval.
The bed was perfect for what I had planned. Several square wood bed posts formed the headboard, and a two-piece wood side board bordered the length of the mattress. When Sandra was being pleasured, she often reached back with both hands and held the head board posts tightly as waves of pleasure rippled through her body. When she was on her knees, she would grasp the wooden posts to steady herself against my thrusts. It was not a great leap of imagination to see that her wrists could be just as easily tied to those posts.
Sandra pulled her long hair back, secured it in a long pony tail with two elastic bands, and sat cross-legged on the bed facing me, as I prepared the rope restraint. Her pussy was fully open and already leaking her honey juices onto the bed covers. Her breasts jiggled as her body shivered in anticipation of what was to come.
“I love your cock,” she informed me, filling the void of silence in the room as I prepared the ropes. “I love how big it is; touching it; how it feels in me.”
She reached out and held the head of my cock in her hand, stroking it slightly and causing pre-cum to flow out into the palm of her hand.
“Tell me if this hurts at all.” I told her, as I slipped a little noose over one hand, tightening it around her wrist.
I wrapped the soft cord around her wrist a couple of times, and then around her other wrist. Finally, I looped the rope around the section of cord between her wrists, securing her wrists together, but leaving enough length to tie her to the head board. Sandra did not seem concerned, but she did look at me with a confused gaze. I think she was anticipating that I was going to tie each wrist separately to each corner of the head board.
“When I tie you to the head board, this will allow you to swivel, so you can be on your back or on your knees. If I tied you to the end posts, you’d be spread eagle and unable to turn over.”
She accepted my explanation without comment, giving me a look of approval, and lay on the mattress with her hands stretched over her head. I tied her wrists to the head board posts.
“Comfortable?” I asked.
She nodded in the affirmative, rolling her body side to side looking for a comfortable position.
I moved off the bed, stood where she could see me, and took my clothes off. When I slid my underwear off, my manhood sprung out and waggled back and forth in front of her. A hungry look of passion and pleasure quickly appeared on Sandra’s face.
I held my stiff manhood over Sandra’s lips and let her lick and suck my shaft, especially the sensitive head. Web-like strings of pre-cum swung down and attached to her chin and nose.
The teasing had begun.
…………………..
I played with Sandra’s nipples for ten minutes or so, pinching and pulling, and rolling each between my fingers and thumb. Sandra liked nipple play, and I took care to do it slowly and softly, letting the pleasure build.
“Harder.” She instructed.
I tweaked each nipple hard enough to illicit a little moan.
“Harder” She said again.
I ignored her and moved on, talking to her; whispering in her ear; getting into her head; getting her juices flowing.
“Do you know what I’m going to do? I’m going to play with your body; tease your pussy until you scream; fuck you; play with your ass hole. Maybe, if you are really good, and you really let me know that you like it, I may let you cum for me.”
Rather than tie Sandra’s ankles to the bed posts, I wrapped rope around each knee, and tied each knee separately to an upper side board. Sandra’s legs were spread wide, exposing her dripping love-hole. Once she figured out what I was doing, and why I was doing it, the expression on her face changed from puzzlement to understanding and approval.
I knelt between Sandra’s legs, leaned forward and sucked on her nipples. She has beautiful breasts, and always enjoyed showing them to me, just as I enjoyed playing with them. I don’t think it was any surprise to her that as part of my playing with her restrained body, I would return again and again to play with her nipples.
I kissed my way down to her bare mound. Sandra was waxed. She had been bare since I had known her; always smooth and glossy; and never any shaving stubble.
With her legs stretched wide, I had full access to her weeping slit, and sucked on her labia, licked her pussy south to north, and darted my tongue deep into her love hole. Sandra liked to be eaten. And, she was certainly capable of multiple orgasms. So, licking and playing with her wet kitten until she had her first writhing orgasm was what I often did first when we had the time to fool around. This night would be no different. She would expect me to pay a lot of attention to her love hole, and to use my mouth and tongue to provide her with her first orgasm.
I did pay a lot of attention to her sopping slit; her orgasm, however, would have to wait.
Whether Sandra was on a bed, in a chair, on the floor or on her hands and knees, and I had access to her slit with my mouth and tongue, I had learned to recognize the signs of an approaching orgasm. Her legs would begin to shake, her breathing would get deeper and faster, her juices would flow and drip, the sounds she made became more animal-like, and she would slowly begin to arch her back and neck as the pleasure in her core began to grow and spread throughout her body.
“Yes! Yes!” or “Oh Yeah!” or “Fuck yes!”, repeated again and again, was soon followed by a bucking orgasm for her, and a face full of pussy juice for me.
I tongue-fucked Sandra’s hole, teasing the soaked flower, until the telltale signs of an impending orgasm appeared. Then I stopped. There was a small moan of disappointment, despite Sandra knowing in advance that this was how it was going to be.