by Galiana Chance
(04/10/02)
Exposed
He's the most imaginative lover.
Last week he bound my hands together, hung them over the hook on the door, and whispered smut into my ear while he trapped and took me.
Last night he entwined our fingers and asked me to ride him slowly while holding his hands. After I came, before I cooled down, he flipped me fast and fucked me hard, till I was well beyond words -- only surging and growling remained.
And then. Then he said them. The words that ripped my heart open, exposing insecurities I never knew I had.
"Tomorrow night, you lead."
Empowered
Tonight I lead, at his request. I can barely breathe.
I blindfold him, standing naked, with his hands tied back so he won't accidentally take over. I caress him slowly, head to toe, ten times, with ten different sensations:
feathers, cantaloupe, warm wet washcloth, the tips of leather whip strands, satin, ice cubes, terrycloth, my desire-dampened panties, scented oil, my breasts.
Now he can barely breathe.
He comes hard in my mouth, right away. As I untie him, he gasps, "That was amazing." Relief and pride flood me so completely I almost faint.
No wonder he likes to lead.
Engaged
As he tastes the skin below my breast while grabbing my ass, the ties hanging my wrists above my head loosen. When it's happened before I've always hung on, still mentally bound.
But tonight my arms drop. My breast brushes his cheek, startling him. I push him to the floor. His unexpected fall is rewarded by a face full of achingly overheated cunt flesh.
I explode against his tongue, then realize we've never switched mid-stream. "Was that okay?"
"No." He tosses me up, pins me against the wall, and bruisingly grinds his cock into my hip. "Not okay, love. Perfect."
Entangled
Our tongues explore each other's mouths. We guide each other's hands. Two handcuffs lock.
"What the?..."
"Uh oh."
"And where is the key, young lady?"
I stammer. He feigns annoyance. We've just cuffed each other to our heavy fuck-chair, and the key is across the room.
"If we push..."
"Whoa!" I trip over his feet. We fall, laughing, in a tangle of knees and elbows. Eventually we get unlocked.
"It's all your fault for making me learn to lead!"
His warm grin and arms envelop me. "Blame accepted." The handcuffs snap around my wrists. "But you're still in the chair tonight."
Enraptured
Tonight, he blindfolded and undressed me, then twirled me dancing across the living room to music that played in his head. I heard it through his touch.
For a moment, when he had spun me so he was behind me with our arms wrapped around my waist, I had the urge to drop his hands, reach back to his shoulders, and squirm my ass against his erection. He would have followed my lead and fucked me that way, I know.
Instead, I lost, and then found, myself in the flight he guided, propelled by the freedom of choosing to follow.
