Clara reappeared in the doorway. In her hand, she had a bowl and a can. Frank couldn't see its contents, but the wicked smile on her face was encouraging. She was silhouetted in the doorway, the mild light from the living room projecting her shadow broadly into the bedroom.
Clara put the items she was carrying down on a dresser beside her. She was in no rush, the urgency of the previous moment having passed. Instead, she seemed to linger with each movement, building the sensation of expectation.
Frank remained static, lying back on the bed and contemplating her from a distance. She was sure of herself, smooth and elegant, with the sexiest of touches surrounding everything she did. She turned away, closing the bedroom door, and in one movement she unzipped her dress from the side, slid it over her shoulders and pushed it down to the floor. She bent over as she did so, exposing her tight buttocks and giving Frank another view, this time unencumbered, of that tantalising underwear. As she righted herself, Frank's pleasure gave way to a vague disappointment. He would have loved to undress her himself, and feel those curves under his fingers again.
As she turned round, his disappointment was brushed quickly aside. The view of her naked torso, her pendulous breasts and aureola were like a vision of renaissance art. She watched his reaction, and smiled. Pushing up her own breasts, massaging them together, and revelling in the powerful hold she had over him, she continued to stare deep into his eyes.
"Tell me," her voice broke the tense silence. "Do you like cherries?" She pronounced the word strangely, and Frank found himself again, wondering about her origins.
"Who doesn't?" He was enjoying the flirtation. Becoming more comfortable with this extraordinary situation, but still unable to take his eyes off her body. He both wanted her to come over, and wanted her to stay framed like a painting in a doorway, and felt the delicious pull between conflicting desires.
Clara picked up the bowl, and walked slowly to the bedside. Her every move was moderated, paced, careful not to break the spell with hurried gestures. She picked a cherry out of the bowl, rolled it around her fingers with a contemplative grin, and then placed it carefully in Frank's open mouth. It was cool, fresh from the fridge, but sweet and crisp. The juice trickled down his throat as they maintained intense, studied eye contact. Clara continued to stare at Frank, as she took another cherry from the bowl, and this time popped it into the front of her black satin pants. She smirked at the involuntary reaction from Frank - not what he'd been expecting at all - and dipped her hand back in to fish the cherry out. It didn't emerge immediately though. Clara rolled it around, probing and pulling, hidden to Frank's view by the fabric, before finally revealing the cherry with a flourish and putting it promptly into his mouth. This time he closed his eyes in pleasure. The cherry was warm, softer, and carried the mystifying scent of woman. He savoured its taste, greedily gulping the cherry down, and reached out for the bowl to get another.
"Slow down, slow down." Clara pushed him back. She didn't want this to be hurried. It was clearly going to be on her terms, and Frank, in tacit recognition, lay back on the bed. What would come next? Clara hopped up onto the bed, sat astride his chest. This time, she placed a handful of cherries in her front pouch, enjoying the texture and uneven sensation against her outer lips. It was Frank's turn to watch Clara's reaction, his cock stiffening unbearably as she massaged around the front of her own pants. This time, instead of reaching in, Clara leant forward on the bed, still astride his chest but edging up. She pushed into his face and laughed as Frank's tongue greedily licked and tried to pull aside the crotch, to get at the goodness within. She helped him with her finger, pulling aside the pants, exposing cherries and much more, before putting both hands on her breasts and arching her back in pleasure. Frank's hands latched onto her buttocks, pulling that sweet mixture of cherry and pussy into his mouth, and Clara did nothing to stop it, even adding her own thrust to bury him deeper.
"Hang on," she said. Reaching across to a drawer under the bed, Clara pulled out what looked like a necktie. On closer inspection, Frank noticed that it was far too long for that purpose, it was nearly two metres in length. With another naughty smile, Clara began to tie Frank's right hand. He panicked. Suddenly, the reality of the situation became very present in his mind. A woman he barely knew was tying him up, and he would be as vulnerable as it is possible to be, in a stranger's flat in Harlem. He would have to stop this madness. It made no sense. It was too much of a gamble. A mixture of thrill and a genuine feeling of fear ran through Frank, as he decided, by pure paralysis of inertia, to remain at her mercy. He was giving up control in the least secure of situations. A massive turn on, but one which could bring real danger.
As Clara slipped the long tie under the bed, and began tying his left hand up, she was clearly enjoying the moment too. Total, and utter, control. She breathed in a lungful of the incense-laden air, and felt intoxicated by the power of the moment.
When it was done, Frank lay back. His jeans were still on, cock pressing hard and awkwardly underneath them, and he still wore the shirt he had put on fresh from the shower. Clara straightened up, and bounced down from the bed. She walked slowly over to the dresser by the door. Again, the slinky movements suggested no urgency, just a playful lolling of the hips as she walked.
At the dresser, she picked up the can, which appeared to be a form of whipped cream. Frank took in the moment: the smoky incense in his nostrils, the gloomy, murky light of the bedroom, the silence of the flat whose decor insulated it from the noise of the street outside, and the huge, tense, expectation, of what Clara would do next.
She returned and sat astride him once more. This time, it was her nipples that received the attention, with small dollops of cream placed on each one. Clara bent down and meticulously placed them in his mouth, as he greedily licked and slurped, to her delight and frisson. She unbuttoned the shirt fully. It wouldn't come off, because of the tie, but she opened it out wide and examined his chest. With a dollop of cream on each nipple, she proceeded to repay the favour, slurping and licking greedily until the cream was gone.
Leaning forward again, she put her mouth next to Frank's ear, in a moment of intense, extreme intimacy.
"You know what I'm going to do now?" The voice was so close to his ear, so breathless and soft, that Frank felt his nether region quiver and engorge even more.
"What's that?" He managed.
"I'm going to make... you... come." Each breathy word was delivered with a pause, with a suspense, that set off a detonation of feeling inside Frank. He struggled against the tie, to get release and satisfaction, but it would have to wait. Clara had moved down, unbuttoning his jeans as she went, releasing with a start his cock from its moorings. He wished he could reach down, to fondle those breasts, to play an active role in this wonderful game, but his paralysis just heightened the pleasure. Slipping his jeans and briefs off, with an expert touch, Clara now saw what she had to work with. He was fully erect, spasming in anticipation and ready for work.
With a spray of the cream, she traced out a fine line down from his navel down to ground zero. She licked and dabbed at the cream, lapping it up while looking occasionally up to see the reaction from her prey. She lifted him up, to get into position, but was careful not to give him any sliding motion which might bring release. Sensing her pause, Frank tried to kickstart the action, by thrusting north with his hips. She reacted quickly, loosening her grip and making him thrust against air. "Now, now. Look who's in a hurry!"
Turning back to the job at hand, Clara leant over and licked the full length of his penis. It brought a shuddering spasm from Frank, but Clara also felt a pang deep in her womb. Despite the control, the power, of having this man powerless before her, she wanted to suck him and keep that dick her mouth. She set to work, holding the shaft in position while licking and sucking the tip, the part with most sensitive sensation, and then moved on to stroking and pulling the head when it was moist and lubricated. She started off slowly, extremely slowly, and feeling the thrust from Frank began to step up the pace ever-so-slightly, increasing the motion but always feeling her fingers around the head.
Before long, Frank's gasps and moans, together with shallower breathing, indicated that he was reaching his moment. Clara turned to him, looking him directly in the eye.
"Are you going to come?
"Yes!" Spluttered Frank.
They maintained eye contact, looking deep into each other's soul.
"Not yet." She dropped the object of her attention, straightened, and walked across the room.
What? What was happening? Frank couldn't believe it...she had brought him to the brink of ecstasy, then denied him release. He struggled against the ties, if he could only reach...but it was no good. They were too well tied. He gasped and struggled for air as the immediacy of the moment began, slowly, to subside.
