Waking up this morning, I find my hands are tied together above my head. I strain to see where you are for surely it must be you who has bound me so. I can hear you in another part of the house, and I wonder what devilment you are up to out of my line of sight. I hear the tea kettle begin to whistle and I sag a little in the restraints for I know now, or at least I suspect, what your wonderful mind has been dreaming up. I am suddenly aware that my ankles are tied also and I realize that I am spread eagle on the bed, and in my birthday suit.
You appear in the doorway, leaning nonchalantly against the frame, with nothing on but a smile and your boots. I love your boots and have from the first moment you appeared in them in my driveway. I love the sound of you walking in them, that hollow click of heels on pavement or wooden floors and the echoes they make in the cool evening air. I love how confidently you stride in them, how suddenly more erect your stature becomes when you are wearing them. When you first told me that you wore cowboy boots, I remember smirking, finding this inwardly mildly amusing…well, that is until you showed up in them, and forever smeared my faint smirk into a huge smile of delight and awe. It takes a certain woman, a strong, independent, confident woman to wear cowboy boots and you certainly wear them well and you certainly do them justice. You have definitely shattered every illusion slash misconception that I ever had about ‘cowboy boots’.
I am jolted back to the present as you clear your throat and take a sip of your hot Earl Grey. My mind is already imagining how hot your mouth is going to be and I wonder where you will place the first lick.
You are watching me with amusement, I can see this in the twinkle of your eyes, as you survey me, tied to the bed, waiting for you. And I wonder what you are thinking as your eyes drink me in. I know how you love to tease me so I am certain you are thinking of something delicious to do to me, knowing that I cannot get free to stop you…not that I would stop you anyway, for I love the delightful ways you tease me, even though I may say I don’t. There is something in the way your eyes penetrate me that always makes me blush, always arouses me, and always makes my heart skip a beat. You have a look that can strip away my clothes, even when we are sitting in public, and I simply adore that look and the prickly heat tingles it gives me, down there.
No words have passed between us this morning, and sometimes I feel, if there were never words, we would still communicate volumes for we seem to know each other’s mind at times. You disappear from the doorway and I hear you in the kitchen again. ‘What are you up to, my love‘, I find myself wondering. You suddenly appear again, this time holding something behind your back and I find myself a little anxious…the not-knowing is causing those tingles to resurface between my legs and I feel my nipples starting to perk up and harden as well. I test my restraints but you have definitely thoroughly tied me and there is no moving beyond an inch or two. You have noticed my brief struggle and I get a sharp warning look from your eyes, which have become a little darker than their usual tiger’s eye gold. I know not to go too far in my struggles, for I have no wish to incur your ire.
You have turned your back to me and I cannot see what you are doing but I see your muscles bulge a little in your arms and my mind begins racing. I hear the sound of a jar lid being released with a little ‘pop’ and I wonder what you have in your hands. You turn around and I can plainly see that you are holding a jar of honey in a kitchen towel. You dip your finger into the jar and rub your fingertip across my lips, looking into my eyes intensely, even a little expectantly, as you do so. I am instantly aware that the honey is very warm and I can see now what you were up to, warming the honey in a bowl of hot water…very clever. Expecting drops of warm honey to fall onto my nipples, I raise my back up off of the bed, straining toward you, but you have other thoughts on your mind apparently.
Instead of dripping the warm honey onto my upraised breasts, you drizzle it instead across your chest and a gasp escapes from my throat. You have indeed surprised me and I watch as you tease me, tracing your fingers through the thick honey as I watch it run very slowly down your body, your hands easily scooping it back up, and caressing both breasts with handfuls of warm honey. You have closed your eyes and thrown your head back, thoroughly enjoying the show you are putting on for me. I can hear you starting to moan a little as you rub the warm honey all over your breasts and stomach and along your clavicles. I can see your fingers tweaking your nipples and I can only imagine how good that feels. Little moans are coming out of your throat and I find my own breathing becoming even more erratic as I try to struggle to get to you, a feat I cannot accomplish although you are only inches out of my reach.
You lean over me and place your right breast in my mouth and I start sucking on you like some kind of crazed madman, wanting you so bad, that I have to force myself to slow down and not bite at you too hard. You pull back slightly so that your nipple almost pops out of my mouth and then you brush your nipple across my lips, teasing me, keeping it just out of reach, just far enough away that I am straining to lick at you. You then offer me your left breast, just enough so that I can lick the honey but not enough to pull you into my mouth. Your eyes warn me to go easy and I find myself staring into those eyes while my tongue darts across your honey-covered nipple, feeling it growing even harder until the gentle playful tease of my tongue. You then rub your breasts and your nipples across my face, teasing me further, smearing my face with honey in the process. You lean down and lick my cheek and I strain toward you to try and capture your mouth to kiss you but you pull back, again silently warning me with your eyes to remain still. It is sweet torture to lie still while you lick the honey from my face.
Tilting the honey jar up, you pour the rest of the warm honey down the front of you, watching my face while you do so. You love seeing me squirm and, oh boy, am I squirming, straining to get to you, wanting you in my mouth more and more with each passing second. When you have emptied the jar and the thick warm honey is oozing down your front, you lie on top of me and rub your body all over me, coating me as well. And then you begin to kiss me, softly, gently, and then harder as I want you more and more. The passion continues to intensify between us as you slip between my legs and begin to grind your hips into me while you rub my breasts with your honey-covered hands, pinching my nipples gently, feeling me arching toward you, as you fuck me harder and harder.
I feel you untying my hands, and instantly I am pulling you close to my body, holding onto you tightly, loving the feeling of the warm honey sticking us together. You begin to kiss my neck, licking the honey from my skin. I am already licking your clavicles, nibbling at your skin, wanting you in my mouth. I love the way you grind into me, making me feel you so deep inside of me. You lock eyes with me, smiling, and I feel the intense love between us.
Almost two hours have passed since I awoke tied up in bed and yet, not one word has been spoken by either of us at this point. Your eyes, though, speak to me. My hands find their way to your hair and I am pulling you to me, pulling your mouth to my breasts, wanting to feel that warmth around my sticky nipples and you silently concede, licking me at first, nipping at my skin with your teeth, and then sucking me into your mouth, your tongue driving me mad with desire, and I hear a cry erupt from my throat that sounds half-animal and I know you are pushing me toward the edge once again. You begin to buck against me faster, driving your hips into me harder, and I feel myself losing control in your arms.
I collapse under your body, convulsing wildly against you, while you hold me tightly to your chest, murmuring Iloveyou’s into my neck, your lips tickling my skin. You move down my body even though you have to pry yourself from my arms as I don’t want you to move, but you are only freeing my ankles, which I had forgotten were still tied. You rub the creases made by the ties, and my struggle against them. I feel the skin tingling in my ankles now, where they had “went to sleep”, and I feel you kissing my ankles, then moving back up my body, kissing me on the lips and then you speak the first words of the day, telling me how sorry you are about my ankles, but I am instantly shushing you with kisses, for I regret not one second of our morning’s sweet pleasures…