I walk into the café, seeing you at the back, poring over a newspaper, looking innocent and contented, with a row of empty espresso cups laid out before you. I already find myself picturing you without your clothes. I almost want to leave you as you are, take my place in the spectator gallery, and watch you when you don’t know I’m looking. But then you look up, and somehow catch my eye, smiling knowingly. I walk slowly over to you, never taking my eyes from yours, and as you stand to embrace me, I make sure I press my body as tightly against yours as I can get away with without arousing suspicion from the other patrons. I kiss you swiftly, our lips meeting fleetingly, and the sensation travels straight to my groin. I place my hands on your hips to steady myself, but then pull away and giggle self-consciously. You suggest we move on to a nearby bar, where we will be able to chat more freely. Conversation is easy, but we are both aware of a sub-plot, of an alternative agenda.
We drink a little more than we should, all the while the eye contact burning a path throughout my body, making me wish we were alone. We search each others faces for clues, trying to work out what the other is thinking, and occasionally, our hands brush across each other, hinting at what we have to look forward to. You receive a message on your mobile phone, a mutual friend, and as I bend behind you to read it, you feel my warm breath stirring the hairs on the back of your neck, my already erect nipples pressed lightly to you.
You shiver inwardly, but maintain the facade that you are in control, as you always like to believe yourself to be, and always claimed you would be. It is a warm night, and as you sip your cool gin and tonic, you can’t help but conjure up impressions of what it would feel like to have my naked body next to yours. I watch your lips skirting the rim of your glass. Noticing this, you tease me, running your tongue across the lip, watching my eyes widen in response. The eye contact remains intense, I can feel the blush rising up my neck, yet this is the only thing to suggest what is really going on, things that before we have only really joked about with each other.
Before we know it, the bar is closing, you saying you are too tired to go on to a club, all the while knowing that the excuse is as see-through as your blouse. We leave the bar, for the first time of the evening feeling a sense of almost awkward uneasiness, knowing this is the make or break stage of our evening together. As we walk back along the riverside, you gather the courage to reach for my hand, sending waves of desire throughout my being. At last, your skin on mine, even if it is just a small token of the possibilities. I feel overwhelmed, and cannot subdue the urge to pull you to me and kiss you tenderly. As I do so, I feel your heartbeat quicken. I crane my head in towards yours, my lips brushing lightly across yours, somersaults inside me. My mouth melds to yours, the heat conducting between our bodies, my fingers reaching out to stroke your face. I open my eyes, not believing that this is truly happening, but there you are, your eyes smiling back at me, in that confident manner I love so much. Your eyes reveal rainbows of opportunities, like octaves of chances to come. I run my finger across your lips, never moving my mouth away in case it brings the dream to an end. Your hands on me feel amazing, one on each side of my waist, slipping just underneath the bottom of my tee-shirt. As I move my hands and stroke them through your hair, I offer you my tongue, which you willingly accept, and suck with urgency into your mouth. Our tongues finally meet, and I’m ready to swoon, your hands grounding me enough to keep me stable. The world around us has disappeared, we are all that is left. Never mind the gangs of men stumbling home drunkenly from the pub, stopping and ogling at our display. We don’t even hear their sleazy comments, we are so absorbed in each other. I can’t believe how good this feels, like I am a teenager again, in the first throes of passion with another girl, discovering the possibilities, the taboo nature of the act making me all the more excited.
Your mouth feels soft against mine, comforting me that you feel the same way, that you will look after and protect me. Your tongue probes deeper, you mingling with me, sealing our passion for each other. You pull your mouth away and I am crestfallen, thinking that even seconds away from you would injure me beyond recovery. But then you surprise me by leaning in to bahis firmaları kiss my neck. You know from previous conversations that this is a weakness of mine, and you intend to regain some of your advantage, and use it to ensure that I am yours entirely. I bend my head to the side, offering myself up to you, making myself vulnerable, as you continue to kiss your way across my throat and neck.
The shivers this sends right through me are fantastic, like sitting in the waltzers at the fairground, not knowing which parts of your body you could have left behind, but feeling the excitement in the pit of your stomach. Finally, you pull away. I’m silently imploring you never to stop. You once again take my hand and, this time, begin to lead me in the direction of your home, ‘accidentally’ brushing my breast lightly with your arm, causing my stomach to leap and my cunt to moisten further. The walk feels like an eternity, our breathing heavy against the silence of the night, unsure with every step that my legs will be able to carry me there. Yet I know this is the most important thing I have ever had to do, as if I’m climbing the final fifty metres of Everest, I know that if I can just ignore the painful pangs of passion and make it to your door, then I shall be rewarded accordingly. We speak little for the rest of the journey, each too focused on what this means. The silence is comfortable, but intense and loaded with sub-contexts of secret eroticism.
After walking for about twenty minutes, although my cunt telling me it was a lot longer, you begin to fumble for your door key. You find it, and standing in the porch in the moonlight, I am once again overwhelmed by the fervour of what you can make me feel, just by being near. As you turn to open the door, I take the opportunity to move in behind you, embracing you, my hands around to your full, soft breasts, moulding myself to your buttocks, pressing myself against you until we are almost one and the same. Oh, if only we could just get these damn clothes off. As if you read my mind, you pull me with you into the hallway, passionately, needily, pushing me back against the wall, and beginning to lift up my top. You notice the pace of my breathing, and begin to realise the extent of the effect you have on me, making mental plans to use this to your advantage. With a surge of confidence, or maybe just uncontrollable desire, I also remove your blouse, surprised that you let me get so close so quickly. Seconds, later, both bras removed, we are pressed to one another, locked once more in a wonderful and passionate kiss. I try to remember when I have ever felt anything so good as your warm, soft skin against mine, and can think of none, although I’m finding it hard to think coherently at all. I moan deeply at the feelings that are welling up inside me, and you know I am yours, to do with what you will.
Moving inside, losing the rest of our clothing as we go, we stumble to the bed together, collapsing in each others arms. I can’t get close enough to you, I want for every inch of my skin to be in contact with yours. Nevertheless I pull away slightly, I want to get a better look at you. Your body turns me on so much, the smooth, smooth skin and sensuous womanly curves. I run my hands across your frame and feel you shiver slightly in response. Taking this as my cue, I shuffle down the bed, and wrap my hot mouth around your nipple, taking the other between my fingers, and feeling it stiffen in response. I tease for a short while, running my tongue around your aureola, before sucking it quickly and roughly into my mouth, twisting the other between thumb and forefinger. You gasp at this sensation, and moan a little, driving me to bite lightly, and then harder on your swollen nipple. Lost in the sensations I am causing, I leave myself open to you unexpectedly regaining control, and rolling me back onto the bed, overpowering me, straddling me, confining me. Time slows down, as if following a film script, following directors cues. But the ecstasy in this case is in not knowing how the story will progress.
Before I know it I am tied up and alone, blindfolded, ties at my wrists and ankles, a rope around my neck to stop me moving. The rope is not tight, but is enough to stop me lifting my head – you want complete control over me, and it seems you know how to get it. You love my expectancy, my not being able to see what you will do next, not being able to relieve myself. I don’t know whether you have left the room or are watching me as I lie there frustrated, kaçak iddaa needing release, not from my confines, but from the uncomfortable lust which you have built up inside me.
I listen for you, and can hear you faintly breathing from across the room, my cunt jolts again as I realise you are watching me, teasing me until you know I can stand it no longer. I call your name, and there is no response. I plead with you. Still nothing. Then, just when I am about to give up, yield completely to your power, I feel movement beside me on the bed, your tongue once again penetrating my mouth, your fingers running through my hair. I want so much to pull you to me and savour this kiss, for I do not know how long I have you for before you abandon me again. Using the little control I have over you, I force my tongue into your mouth, letting it dance with yours, while I kiss you passionately. Despite the restraints, this kiss is the most natural feeling in the world, as our tongues envelop each other, exploring the contours of each others’ lips and mouth.
You move to once more sit on top of me, I moan at how wet I can feel you are, finally understanding how hard you are finding it to keep even a semblance of your original control, teasing your own cunt just a little. I lie there, blind, not knowing what you will do next to make me want you, growing frenzied with my mounting passion, driving me insane. You grasp at my breasts again, boisterously yanking at my puffy nipples; I am moaning in response. You move away slightly, and I feel a surge of fear that you will leave me again. But, seconds later, I feel you once more, placing your breast close to my mouth, teasing me. I suck it to me earnestly, realising as I do so that I can taste you on yourself where you have placed your finger to your own wet pussy and gilded your nipple with your moistened digit. This only serves to entice me further, desperately reaching as far as I can, given the confines of the rope around my neck, taking all of you that I can get. After a short while, you pull your breast away from me, your heart leaping as I try to keep my hold on it with my teeth. You know that I am ready for you, for what you have been dreaming of in the lead up to my visit.
You slowly, agonisingly kiss your way down my body, your breath hot and fast on my abdomen, moving gradually down until your lips meet my inner thighs, teasing me, prolonging my need to have you inside of me. Running your tongue just briefly over my swollen, throbbing clit, I moan out in response to the new heights of desire which you are awakening in me. All the while, your hands explore the curves of my body, as if you are trying to read my story, like Braille across my skin, as if it is you that is blindfolded. Your hands feel warm and tender across my frame, yet a sense of urgency is now conveyed. Moaning now with pleasure, I try to implore you on some psychic level to touch me, touch me where we both know I most want and need you. The only power I have is to pathetically grind my hips a little, and whimper to let you know how good you feel on me. My body tells you this without a word. I want to talk, to guide you, to beg with you to fuck me, but you have threatened that if I am not good you will gag me, and I want my mouth to be free to accept all that you may offer me.
You pass your fingers across my cunt, appraising my wetness, and realising for the first time that the lips are shaven smooth, a smile creeping across your face. Your fingers begin to explore my folds, tentatively at first. You bring your fingers to my mouth and move to kiss the nectar off, marvelling at both how wet I am for you, and how salty-sweet it tastes. For a moment I think I can even hear your heartbeat as you do this, my senses heightened against the blackness of the blindfold. I listen closely, unsure as to whether it is simply my own heart, trying to escape the confines of my body, abandoning me completely to nameless lust and desire. Pangs of passion for you once more hit my cunt as I realise how much you, in your silent way, are wanting and enjoying this too, savouring the effect you are having on me. As I try to lean in to the kiss, the rope pulls taut across my neck. I’m caught, unable to breathe, regretfully having to back away. The coarse rope feels good, contradicting the feeling of having your fingers slowly, and surprisingly gently, once more trace a path down my exposed belly. I suck in my breath, understanding where you are now heading. As your fingers move, they leave shivers like tattoos kaçak bahis across my skin, creating a masterpiece on the canvas that is my naked frame.
You can tell now that I’m close to the edge. My sighs come quick and hot. You push three fingers inside of me, all at once, enveloped like summer waves by my sodden flesh. I gasp and cry out, my intense, low, guttural moan causing your clit to throb in time with the movements your fingers make in and out of my dripping sex. The ripples of pleasure build inside me, like breakers ready to hit the shore, not knowing whether they are spiralling towards or away from my epicentre, my life-force, my cunt. I scream out to you as I start to cum, my whole body covered slowly, inch by inch, in warm water, or maybe it is more like honey, washing over me. Stars collide in front of my deprived eyes. My toes feel as if you are burying them in the sun-heated sand, my head as if already buried, or floating somewhere out to sea.
As the tide begins to ebb away, you move up to kiss me. I survive only on the breath which I borrow from you. After holding me fleetingly until I am still, you remove my blindfold, the desire I see in your eyes burning into my retinas. You shift on the bed, positioning your cunt above my mouth, hovering just far enough away that my tongue cannot reach. I am forced to wait, to lie there and stare into you, willing you to move closer, to let me taste. Finally ceding, you lower yourself to me, my hot mouth ready for you, your wetness fusing with mine of a different tune. I want to pull you down on me, hard, force my tongue inside you, but, still tied up, your movements dictate mine. Taking your clitoris between my lips, holding it there delicately, I run my tongue across it, feeling you begin to grind your hips against my face. This is my cue.
Running my tongue upwards, from the base of your saturated slit, taking my time, flicking quickly over your clit with each stroke, you instinctively push yourself hard against my mouth, anticipating each movement of my tongue, automatically moving with me. Moving to pinch your labia, a little harder now, between my teeth, I pull my head away a little, taking your soft flesh with me. You know you are losing your composure now, elegies escaping your lips, emanating from the depths of your being, moaning in time with the motion of my face against your cunt.
Alternately driving my tongue into you and retracting it to suck forcefully on your clit, hard against my soft mouth, circling my tongue as I go, you scream out words of love, unaware in your frenzied state of what you are saying. Dragging my wanting tongue across your clit, applying pressure now all around the head, the muscles there taut and expectant, I play to reach the perfect note. And then it hits me. Your whole cunt contracts in powerful convulsions against my face, your lyrical cries like a wavering crescendo, discovering melodies never before sung, the fluid pouring out of you sapping your energy more with each second. I lap at this sacred offering, like a kitten at a saucer of milk, relishing every drop, knowing it is all for me, my face now as wet as your cunt. You pant appreciatively as you feel hundreds of tiny ricochets against the walls of your pussy, your body growing limp. Finally collapsing against me, our skin damp, you hold me close to you, nestling in to my warm, sticky body.
Eventually you bend to untie me, slowly, leisurely, prolonging my relief, allowing me to recuperate a little. Finally able to look into your eyes once more, I see the sentiments held therein have changed now, your gaze softer, almost grateful. Free at last from the confines of the binds and rope, the release I feel mimics your orgasm. Clasping me to you, your skin is once more against mine, its softness a contrast to what has gone before. This feeling is safe, the paradise of spending an eternity with our limbs entwined. Make-up smeared across my face, I suddenly feel self-conscious again, in front of the beauty and inspiration of your body.
You recognise this in me, and bow your head to kiss my eyelids, softly, in turn, littering my face with soothing kisses. I brush my fingers across your back, able finally to touch you as I want, my hands rushing to explore your body, composing rhapsodies up and down your spine. I explore every inch of your skin, your back like an alluring expanse of ocean, which draws me in until I am swimming in your flesh. After lying together like this for a time, touching, stroking, sharing our bodies with each other, we finally have to seek solace and calm in the realms of sleep. Curled up against each other, your head on my chest, we are lulled together into a peaceful slumber, only to dream of caressing each other some more.