A Play for Eeps

I love this woman, this wonderful warm sexy woman who touches my soul as easily as my skin. It's a full-time obsession for me to be her lover, mostly because she's full of surprises.

This time she is asking me a favour, not something I'm always into but something she likes, wants us to share.

My place, my domain. I suppose its symmetry, both in and out of our respective comfort zones at the same time. I look around, tidied up as something to do and then prepared.

She wouldn't find it exciting if she knew what to expect, so I borrowed a couple of her favourite novels, premium grade girly porn. She did give me a hint though, folded the corners of sections she found particularly sexy or had things she thought we could try.

I had to read some of those books one handed at various points, I will admit. Not your vampire bullshit, her taste for erotica gives my sexy ideas sexy ideas.

That said, there were pages marked by the whim of her fantasy that were past boundaries I hadn't really pushed before. Perhaps not, at least not the first time.

I went back and forth. It reminded me of when we were first dating, trying to get everything perfect, trying to impress her.

I did something stupid and looked for advice on the internet, got myself all turned around thinking about accessories and things to tie her up with.

But it isn't about whips and chains for her, it's about letting go of the control she has to hold everywhere else, being liberated at her most subjugated. Because why fuck and then cuddle when you can play with psyches?

I reminded myself that if she wanted me in charge, we were doing this my way. I put my foot down... Silently, alone in my flat.

In the end it didn't make a difference. She loves me without pretence or props. I didn't break the bank on leather and chains, though a little rainy day money became a couple of things I could think of a use for.

As far as I went I kept my usual jeans but swapped out my t-shirt for something with a collar, formal occasion and all. Shower and a clean shave, she will be here any minute now.

Any minute now...

I stand in the living room, lit a few candles, chicks love candles. I decided as far as being her master went... I don't want to control her 24/7. She has better ideas than me and we haven't tried most of them yet.

But when she asks me for this she's giving me the keys to her sexy side; I'm happy to drive her anywhere she wants to go, but I will give them back when we return.

I have a very rough plan in so far as I put a couple of things ready in the living room and another couple ready in the bedroom.

Some things we have tried, I don't mind tying her hands to something before I go down on her, backseat driving is rude and she has a tendency to pull hair at the climactic moment, sometimes unintentionally.

She doesn't like cuffs, more specifically she doesn't like bruised wrists and ankles, so we have soft leather ties that have enough give to be comfortable writhing in.

We had these little talks over weeks, she seduced me to the idea teasing me with tales about old girlfriends, funny moments. Little looks that show me what she's just teasing me with and what really turns her on.

I didn't want to hear about boyfriends too much. Not that I'm overly jealous. Everyone is a little bit jealous but we've had those conversations before. There is a good reason she is with me rather than any of them, and one of her reasons for being with me is because I'm a lover not a fighter, I prefer board games to head games.

Plus of course it meant she had more time to tell me about her bi side, another little facet she kept a secret until the time was right to leave it in a prominent place in my fantasies. Not that threesomes are the be all and end all, and it's not because I want to fuck two women for my ego. Anyone who doesn't get why 100% more beautiful naked woman is a plus in a fantasy can't count. And the thought of seeing her indulging herself that way with a woman keeps me warm on cold mornings... Except for when we keep each other warm on cold mornings.

She's here...

A little too much stress in our lives these past weeks, I only gave her warning when she was on the way from work. Never underestimate the element of surprise in romance. I guess a part of it was so neither of us had time to overthink it, I'm nervous but it's the same nerves you get the first time you do something new and exciting. The same nerves I got the first time I kissed her.

She's at the door before I can fluff my line. I open it for her, invite her in with a smile, standing aside for her.

So very beautiful, this woman whose kinks and fantasies I'm borrowing for the evening, so very difficult not to scoop up into a hug. She seems stressed, tired, I can almost feel the little aches of a long shift. I wonder if she's really up for this tonight, but then she came right here...

She did exactly as I told her and kept silent, ready to start right away. I didn't want to give her time to prepare for this, worry over what she's asking of her boyfriend and call it off for my sake. So very considerate, this woman I love.

I consider her for a moment as I close the door, as she waits to see if I'm the one she can give herself to entirely and trust me to keep her safe.

Dressed for work, branded t-shirt and jeans under her coat, trainers for comfort and everyday underwear. As much as I enjoy her erotic display she's in my hands tonight, she only needs to bring herself.

Slight and curved and freckled, tanning a little in the summer heat with hair almost as dark as her eyes. I never had a type until I met her, now I could never love anyone else this way.

I bite back "I love you, Beautiful." and say "Stand still."

I'm not going to give her a special name here, not going to call her Bitch or Slut or Mistress, we're not playing X-Men. I decide instructions will do, I'm taking it easy as far as attitude goes. I don't want to remind her of boyfriends past, this is her night, her fantasy.

I take the bag from her shoulder and put it down next to me. She doesn't give up these little talismans of other people's control, it's my job to take them and put them where they are no longer important. I reach into the bag, take her phone and flip the battery out of the back before returning it, putting it down against the door with a clink of settling keys. No distractions, no worrying about anything outside of our home.

Normally I hold her hand, a boyish little token of affection between old friends, new lovers. Tonight I take her by the wrist, not gripping to assert myself just a firm touch so she knows we're going to play her game. I lead this woman I love, this woman made Mine for the night, to the living room.

"Shh." I interrupt the forming word on her lips. I put my hands under her collar and push the coat off her shoulders.

Snaking tattoos coming from her sleeves, a little twinge of heat in the matching one on my arm as I remember getting them done. I held her hand while she got hers done, she sat in my lap while I got mine, wriggled to distract me from those old thoughts of blades on skin.

Next the t-shirt, logos and space for a name badge now replaced by a lanyard she already took off. I'm not rough with her, but I'm taking off her clothes like I'm unwrapping a present. I let the shirt fall to the floor, resist the urge to put a soft kiss at the base of her throat. I remind myself to take my time and stop, just let myself look at her.

I wish she could see in the mirror what I see when I look at her. The shape of her written into my brain, her voice a direct line to my soul, every bit of her beautiful and all of her perfect, every curve and every scar. I like telling her she's beautiful just so she can hear it every day, feel it in the kisses I love to put on every inch of her soft skin whenever she lets me.

Shy now, and tired, she stands on aching feet with an ocean of worries on her shoulders. Would that I could lift them away right here and keep them away, but maybe this is how we escape together.

I realise I'm staring, my thoughts overriding my vision. I meet her eyes, she looks so vulnerable and alone, nervous of the man she kissed good morning.

I have to remember this is part of what she likes, that I want her to feel vulnerable right now, to build the tension she will so enjoy breaking later.

"Kick off your shoes." I tell her. She does, though the left is a little tighter and she stumbles before recovering. I see the blush rise around her cheeks but she stays commendably still.

"Socks too." I wait for her to finish one thing before beginning another. This is her sexual meditation, I don't want to mess with her chi.

I step forward, standing close. I circle my hands around her hips, a soft caress around to her back, unhook her bra and sweep my fingers under the straps, over her shoulders and down her arms. I hold it for a second, warm from her skin, and let it fall softly to the floor too.

I am about to step close to her again but I remember those metaphorical keys jangling in my head.

"Come here." Softly, sweetly, but it's not a request.

She reacts quickly, I can see a little shake in her step, nerves I feel more guilty than turned on by. Bondage is like vodka, the first one is the harshest, you have to settle into it.

I bring power to a point, hook a single finger into the front of her waistband and pull her closer still, until her nipples graze my chest.

I take a long look into those dark eyes. I smile a little bit, for a second she does too. I undo the button with a second finger and ease down the zip, letting my knuckle rub along the warm covered groove of her pussy just a little.

She actually shivers, the slow burning erection I'd had since sending the text message to bring her here gets oxygen and strains against my jeans. I ache to take her right there on the floor among all the discarded clothes but I control myself. She has given me total power, I'm taking it seriously.

We look back to each other, my knuckle rubs back upwards, resting against her clit. I flex the finger a little and watch her smile fade to that distant look as she focuses on sensation.

"Not yet." I say more to myself than to her.

I withdraw my lucky, warm digit and tug the jeans down her hips, let them fall as I push them off her thighs. I push her back a step and then sweep the jeans away with my foot.

I can already smell how hot she is, feel cool air on the moisture on my knuckle. Maybe I'm off to a good start.

As for myself, half my brain was telling me to take my time and get it right, the half too simple for words just gave me a flash of the taste of her, the low rumble in her throat as I slide into her for the first time in too many hours, the sting of her teeth on my lip.

I play it cool, she's worth waiting for.

Warm in here, heating on so she can be comfortable without clothes. A drop of sweat trickles and meanders down my spine, more nerves than heat.

I hook two thumbs into her panties at her hipbones, getting comfortable enough to trust my impulse I pull her close again by the only clothing she has left on.

I feel her against me, the urge to kiss her incredible, but this is all going to be about time. I draw my hooked thumbs upward slowly, pulling the fabric tight against her pussy. Another little smile at the naughtiness of it, the newness. It's hard to keep going when all I can think about is dropping to my knees to taste her there, to make love to her the way I fantasise about when I miss her touch.

But I look at her looking at me, there's something new in that look, not a keen edge of anticipation but a long dwindling ember given new air, lingering on every move I make.

I get that old familiar urge to impress her, to pleasure her...

I give in. Step close. I put my fingertips to her chest and slowly guide her back to the wall between the two big windows.

My hands take her wrists, I bring them above her head, pin them to the wall with my right while my left traces down along her arm. All that soft skin... I can see her heartbeat in the faint movement of her breasts, her eyes locked on me.

Maybe I'm getting into it. That look she has, those deep dark eyes like a classic movie star, that delicate face I love to kiss. My left hand traces slowly down, a little flex against my grip as I find a ticklish spot and then circle it, teasing her with it.

I think of all the things I could do at that moment. Decide on a new sort of icebreaker.

Before we can get lost in the moment I pull my hand slowly, roughly over her breast, a long possessive grope not usually my style. I like how she responds to it, not shying away from my roughness but thrusting herself into my hand. I feel her fingers stroking at my hand pinning hers.

A little moan as I take her nipple between finger and thumb, pinching steadily harder until her little moan sharpens into a hiss of hurt.

My gentle instincts tell me that hurting this woman is the worst thing I can do, but it's outvoted by her look, slit eyes and the tiniest of smiles.

I want to tell her I've missed her, but I think back to my plan. Why tell her something I can spend the night showing her?

I lower my face close to hers, keep squeezing and slowly rolling the taut nipple in my grip. Let her feel the closeness of me as I hold her locked into that sensation.

After a few more seconds I relent, I hold tight for a moment before letting go, letting the blood rush back to that sensitive flesh.

I let her enjoy the sting of it, and then make another rough swipe of my palm down over her belly, slipping my middle finger beneath her panties and the rest outside, bunching them between my fingers as I expose her.

She's hot and slick already, she clamps her thighs together around my finger, holding me there.

I decide that's borderline disobedience, tell her by squeezing her wrists in my grip.

"Feet apart." I tell her, she reacts quicker this time. Not obedience so much as

bargaining right now, but it's something we can work on.

Her breath a rolling shallow stroke, I feel her, grip her in my palm with two fingertips vying for her clit.

Naked but for tangled underwear, I consider how fast and how far this should go the first time.

Everywhere fast, is the vote of every Y-chromosome in my body. It really is all about control, but I didn't realise how much of that would need to be self-control.

I improvise almost as a stalling tactic while I try to focus on anything but how close I am to blowing my adorably vanilla load just at the sight of her, just at the strange new nerves jangling as I push further than we have before. This is where I commit...

She struggles a little, I watch her upraised arms flex against my single steady hand. I wonder what it must feel like to be turned on by struggling against restraint. It seems the wrong way around to me, I would chew my own arm off to escape rather than submit. Maybe this is why she wants us to try this, maybe it's the side of myself I spend so much time hiding that she really wants to know...

I don't know how I feel about that.

I do know how I feel about her struggling in my grip while I'm pleasuring her though, I like it, but it's not quite obedience.

I stop. Just let my fingers coast to a halt and linger, let my other arm relax at the shoulder as I lean in close to her face, wait until she looks up at me.

Perhaps I would have asked her something, but she looks at me for a long second, looks at my lips asking for a kiss.

It occurs to me that we haven't kissed since the last time we said goodbye. She reaches out with that look and the couple of inches of movement my hold allows.

I meet her there. Because being in charge is nothing if you can't pause for five seconds to kiss your girlfriend along the way.

Her hot tongue, cool lips... She kisses me like we haven't seen each other in a...

Pain, hot squeezing pain like a scorpion sting as she bites my lip, hangs onto me, trapped by a kiss...

I realise I closed my eyes to feel her when I open them to see her staring right into me, like she could read the small-print on my soul. Made in Birmingham, no guarantees.

I've been had. I've been suckered by this sneaky, sly, mischievous... perfect fucking woman.

I feel her lips curve into a smile around her teeth as I let go of her wrists above me.

The long bite begins to grate against my ego. I love it when she challenges me, as much as the feel of her teeth on my lip sends blood rushing downwards I feel teased by her. It's not her turn to tease, it's mine.

I let myself kiss her the way I've wanted to all day, she lets me, her teeth relent...

I put my arms around her hips and forget the game for a moment, we hug, we kiss.

She's playing with my shirt buttons, I consider ending this little ritual and just having her right there. She grips my shirt, holds me close. She's thinking the same as me...

Time to take control.

I step back, another little kiss as she grins and looks down, expecting me to go for my belt or my buttons.

The hand that grasps her throat feels so fucking wrong for a second, like I'm making a terrible mistake. It's not so much like kicking a puppy as... well, it's like grabbing the woman you love around the throat. It's not a natural act for a guy like me. I remind myself that's almost the point for me this first time. This is the place and the time to push against comfortable boundaries.

I surprise her, I feel her jump at the speed of it more than the pressure of my grip. I'm not about to leave marks but I give her no option but our safe word to refuse me.

It's not about me really, that's just for the look of the thing. At the centre of all this was that little look I saw one night and wanted to see again, this little adventure taking place mostly in our heads.

My grip gets comfortable, I feel her pulse against my thumb. Ultimate, shocking, sudden power. She trusts me to hold on, but not too long. Trusts me with the air she's breathing.

Maybe I don't have to pretend to find something sexy about that...

She tilts her head back and leans against the wall, momentarily under my power, though I suspect she's toying with me a little.

That's going to stop soon, so I let her enjoy herself. When the moment feels right I'm going to move this thing along, I'm looking ahead.

Didn't feel like pinning her wrists again but she wants to struggle. I think of something, not sure if it was one of her books or out of the clear blue sky but I go with it.

Holding her hands against the wall, pinning her elbows with mine at shoulder height. We're close enough to kiss, if I let her. Her feet still obediently apart, I decide to reward that on the spot.

I don't tell her to do anything, I just don't tell her not to.

My love, my sultry, sexy, suddenly submissive love... She gets the idea and pushes her hips forward to meet me. Long syllables of body language in that touch, she dances like flowing water when she isn't tied up.

I step forward until my shoes thunk against the skirting board, she draws up first one leg then both, gripping me back.

This is a part of it for her, I realise, a chance to show off her sexy side away from everything ordinary. I give her the spotlight and shut the fuck up for a minute. I'm aware again that this might be my first time and our first time, but it isn't her first time. I'm half expecting moves I've never seen, but deep down I know the biggest change is between our ears.

She dances for me but not the ordinary sort of dance, nothing so mundane as rhythm, repetition. She doesn't like to walk in her own footsteps, I hold her tight while she freewheels, listen to those sexy, breathy sounds she makes when torn between a moan or a groan or a laugh.

She holds me, grinds herself hard against me. Something voyeuristically satisfying in watching her focused so entirely on herself and her own pleasure. For a while we're alone in the universe, the sultry submissive goddess and her adoring believer.