197 lines
12 KiB
Plaintext
197 lines
12 KiB
Plaintext
Archive-name: Bondage/erot2.txt
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Archive-author: Amethyst
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Archive-title: Blind Heartbeat
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A woman lies peacefully slumbering on her bed, clad in naught
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but a twisted satin sheet of midnight blue. The sheer white curtain
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ripples back and forth into the room, as so commanded by the
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imperious summer breezes. The woman's silken locks spill over her
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shoulders and fan out on the pillow, threaded through with strands
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of silver which glint in the early morning light filtering through
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the translucent fabric. Her pale skin seems to glow slightly in the
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faint sunlight.
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She utters an almost soundless sigh and turns restlessly in her
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sleep, shifting the sheet so that it slips smoothly from her torso
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down to her waist. Her full breasts, revealed by this movement, are
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covered with tiny goosebumps in the chill morning air, and her
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nipples are red and hard in the breeze from the window.
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A man begins to stir now from the chair near her resting
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place. He has been sitting there just watching her sleep for the
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last twenty minutes and is smiling now at the sight which greets his
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eyes. He is tall and strong, and the sunlight glints off his
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reddish hair as it does off her silver. He strides purposefully
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over to the bed and stops a moment to gaze at her peaceful rest for
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one last time before he endeavors to awaken her.
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He bends over the bed, slowly drawing the sheet down past her
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hips, sliding its slippery smoothness over her legs and feet and
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tossing it carelessly in a heap on the floor at the foot of the
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bed. The woman stirs, shivering slightly and reaching out a
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fumbling hand for her lost covering. The man sits on the edge of
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the bed and catches her seeking hand in his. Holding it and turning
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it gently palm upwards, he softly kisses the hollow of her hand and
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then goes on to kiss each individual finger.
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His lips continue their kissing trail along her wrist and up
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her arm, pausing for a lingering salute to the inside of her elbow
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and then resuming their advance upwards. She is still not awake,
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but her eyelashes flutter ever so slightly and her lips curve up
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into an almost imperceptible smile. But he know it is there, for he
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knows every inch of her flesh and every gesture, expression, and
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movement that she makes as well as he knows his own.
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As he trails moisture-laden caresses over her shoulder and up
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the side of her neck, she shivers again, but he does not think it is
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from the cold now. He swings up on the bed and lies beside her,
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balanced on one arm and his head next to hers. His roving lips now
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pay homage to her ear. She moans quietly as a warm moist breeze
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makes its way into her ear, a breeze that has nothing to do with the
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one entering through her window. The man's tongue traces its way
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from the top curve of her ear down around her ear to the earlobe,
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leaving a wet glistening trail behind it. As his mouth reaches her
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earlobe, he gently catches her lobe between his teeth.
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She turns her head toward him and her eyes open a crack. As
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her long dark lashes rise up further, he can see her golden
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green/brown eyes questing fuzzily for consciousness. Her hand
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reaches up and cups the back of his head, drawing it forward to her
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parted lips. As their lips meet the kiss is first very gentle and
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cautious, very sweet and very precious. As she becomes fully awake,
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however, she begins to press herself and her lips more firmly
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against him, seeking his tongue with hers and wrapping her arms and
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legs around him.
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An eternity passes while they furiously embrace, clasping one
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another with strength and a fierce joy. Eventually, their lips draw
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apart, and they smile at each other. The sparkle in her hazel eyes
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finds a matching glint in his. She opens her mouth to speak, but he
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stops her with but one finger on her mouth. She smiles widely and
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begins to speak anyway, but her stubborn intent is frustrated by his
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lips once again upon hers. As he draws away from her once more, he
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places his finger against his own lips to indicate his desire for
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her silence.
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She begins to shiver once again, this time obviously from the
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chill in the air on her nude flesh. He draws his hand lightly over
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her goosebumps and carefully over and around her nipples. This, of
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course, only intensifies her shaking. Out of consideration for her,
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the man arises to step over to the window and shut it. Out of the
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corner of his eye, he senses movement behind him. He turns his head
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to view her attempting to sneak past him to the nearby chair where
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her robe is draped. "Oh, no you don't, love," he murmurs as he
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reaches out and grabs her around her waist. "I like you just the
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way you are right now," he states, as he draws her back to him. "But
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I have to get up; I have things to do," she protests. "Believe me,
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this is infinitely more important than your trivial errands." "No,
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I have to go!"
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As she tries futilely to slip away from his grasp, he reaches
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down and hoists her into his arms. Striding back over to the bed,
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he dumps her unceremoniously upon it. Determined, she sits up and
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tries to swing her feet over the edge of the bed to get off, but he
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grabs them and then holds them down. "Come on, you can't hold all
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of me down...I'm going to get away. You might as well accept it and
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let me go and get my stuph done." "You only think you can get away,
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my dear. I know different." And from underneath the mattress he
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produces four strips of fabric, smooth but strong. You wouldn't
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dare!" "I wouldn't? Anything you say dear," as he grabs first one
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ankle and then the other with a firm grip, tying one of the strips
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to each ankle and then tying the other end of each to an opposite
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bedpost. "You can't do this to me!" "yes, dear." He straddles her
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now, kneeling with one leg on each side of her. "Oh, no, I'm not
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going to let you do this to me," and she put her hands behind her
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back, thinking they'd be out of his reach. "You keep forgetting my
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reach is longer than yours, love," as he easily reaches behind her
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and imprisons both her wrists in one of his hands. Drawing her arms
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forward over her head, he proceeds to lash her wrists to the
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appropriate bedposts at the head of the bed. "Come on, this has
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gone far enough. You're not going to get any response out of me if
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I'm mad at you." "Yes, dear. That's why your nipples are hard...
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because you don't like this." "Fuck you!" "I intend to, love...I
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intend to."
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She frantically tries to pull her hands through, but his knots
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are stronger than her struggles. As she fights against her fate, he
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just sits there and watches, grinning at her. "O.K., you win. What
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now?" "For now, my dear, you must be quiet, or I will confine your
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pretty mouth as I did your luscious flesh." And he reaches down
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under the edge of the mattress once more and produces a blindfold.
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It is evident that he has prepared for this in advance, and she
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shivers in anticipation, hoping he won't see. Vain hope indeed, for
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he does see and smiles again. Gently drawing her head up, he fastens
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the blindfold over her eyes and ties it behind her head. It is soft
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and not uncomfortable, but the whole idea and the situation is
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making her excited and nervous at the same time. She is not in
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control of the situation, and this throws her off balance. Which
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is, of course, precisely his intent.
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She lies in her enforced darkness, feeling even more keenly the
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weight of his body on hers. With her sight obstructed, every touch
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and every sound impresses itself on her senses with shattering
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effect. As she feels his weight leave her, she shivers again. The
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worst thing about being blindfolded is that she has no idea where he
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is going to strike next. It seems she has waited hours, but it is
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only seconds, when she senses movement near her crotch.
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And then this exquisitely cruel master of her fate begins to
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slowly and carefully run his tongue up one side and down the other
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on the insides of her thighs. As he finishes each run he blows
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across her moistened skin with a sadistic deliberation. She cannot
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see him but she can hear him chuckle amusedly at each involuntary
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shudder. A quiet moan escapes her lips before she can stop it; she
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doesn't want to give him the satisfaction but she can no longer help
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herself. Her body belongs to him, just as it has since she mat him,
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although she didn't know it then. She has no control over her
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reactions to him, but she still tries vainly to ignore his touch.
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The most frustrating thing is that each trip up her leg stops
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short before it reaches her genitals...she keeps expecting him to
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kiss and lick her there and he doesn't. He just keeps on licking,
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blowing and chuckling his way up and down her thighs. Now he starts
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doing it the entire length of her leg, all the while running his
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hands over her hips and down the outside of her legs. So while his
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mouth is caressing the insides of her legs, his hands are caressing
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the outside, and he chuckles now more than ever, as she strains away
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from him and the tension builds inside her. He knows that if he
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were to remove the blindfold she would be glaring at a face that she
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can no longer see, because at this point he knows that she would not
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be able to see her own hand in front of her face.
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Her body, though confined at wrists and ankles, still has
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enough freedom of movement to move up, down, and side to side,
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trying to escape him, but she cannot do it. Her head turns back and
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forth and her breathing is starting to become quick and harsh.
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Judging correctly that she is in the most pleasurable agony, he
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decides that he should make it worse. Oh, cruel, cruel man...he now
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moves to her wet and waiting aperture and traces his tongue ever so
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gently around and over, kissing once and then drawing away. A
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murmur of disappointment escapes her as his lips leave her lower
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ones. But softly and surely, he brings his hand and fingers and oh
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so lightly touches her, barely even letting his fingers brush one
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spot then he is at another. He draws his fingers inside her and
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then out again, in and then out again, over and over again feeling
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her wetness and readiness for him. She is squeezing around him,
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welcoming his hand, and her breath is labored. Carefully observing
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her, he can see that she is incoherent and near the breaking point.
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At this time, he takes his hand out and straddles her once
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again, this time letting his weight on her even more as he prepares
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himself to enter her. He is hard and ready, and he knows she is
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ready to receive him. Carefully, he lets himself be surrounded by
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her moist warmth and begins to rock back and forth upon her.
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Forward, back, forward, back...he can feel her tighten around him.
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He thrusts harder and harder, faster and faster, pushing her body
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into the mattress. As he comes closer to his own release, he
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retains enough reason to start touching her again in his rocking,
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readying her for the end so they can experience it as one. His
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panting is as hard as hers, as the strenuous movements and the
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feeling of her flesh welcoming him have their effects on his
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breathing and his heartrate. Closer and closer they come, faster
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and faster they move. She has no thoughts in her head except the
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tension and the feeling that she's going to explode and melt at the
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same time. Suddenly, she does, gripping him even more tightly as
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the world goes black around her; as she loses all control and spasms
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and shudders in his arms; as he releases himself and holds her
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closely to him; as her mind spins in a circle and multicolored
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starbursts flash behind her eyelids; as he grips her shoulders
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fiercely and pushes against her one last time. As she lies back on
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the bed motionless, her breathing still rough but slowing; as he
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collapses on top of her, his heaviness welcome to her wet body; as
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they hold each other in a body hug that is not two bodies but
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one--not two souls but one; as their wet flesh rubs together and
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they lie there on the bed.
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And their lips meet again, not passionately but sweetly,
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drinking of each other's sweetness, sharing their joy and their
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happiness to be alive and in love, to be with the other forever in
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mind, body and soul.
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--
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