...There I lay, lounging on the divan, while sculpted young Mediterranean boys fed me grapes and perky young girls ran around dusting everything with little black feather dusters. Everyone was wearing togas and...
Cold Hands!
He must have watched me sleeping peacefully for a little bit before he first touched me. I had been sleeping quite soundly and wasn't the slightest bit aware of his presence. I knew I must have been a sight... My long slender legs wrapped around a pillow, the flowered sheet covering only my belly and my ass, leaving my breasts and thighs open to his touch. When he first touched his hand to my leg, I was torn from my dream into blurry confusion, muttering "Cold hands, cold hands." He had known I had stayed up too late when he came back into the bedroom that morning. He had been complaining that I slept in too late, and I should have known that the revenge was coming. Icy fingers ran up my thigh. My legs closed together reflexively on his fingers and I buried my face deeper into the pillow. "Cold hands," I muttered again, and fell back into my dream.
...One of the toga clad young gentlemen was smiling at me, and I smiled back, and lay back as another massaged my foot. I looked at the smiling youth with a seductive glance, nodding to encourage him closer as the other touched my ankle with cold hands...
Cold hands!
When I next awoke, he had already tied one of my ankles to the ropes that ran under our mattress for this reason, and was slowly spreading my legs apart. By the time I had shaken off the haze of my dream and sat up, feeling the muscles stretch, my legs were spread wide open. I looked up at him in slight fear, slight anticipation. "Did you say something about cold hands, my sleeping beauty?" A playful gleam glinted from his eye as he spoke. He touched the rope at my ankle and tested it's grip. Not too tight, not too loose. I couldn't escape if I wanted to, but the bounds were not painful. I tried to catch his hand as the cold finger moved from my ankle, and danced up my leg to my kneecaps. "Well, now, I guess we'll have to do something about your hands, too, won't we?"
The next thing I knew, he was securing my wrists separately above my head, until I was pulled into a X across the bed, my exposed and hardening nipples pointing to the ceiling. When he returned to my side after checking the ropes he smiled at me. The devious expression on his face revealed that I was in trouble, and I bit my lip in anticipation. I gasped as he slipped a satin blindfold over my eyes, and my world became dark. I heard him leave the room for a moment, and I began to get a little upset that he would leave me tied alone so early in the morning.
He returned quickly, though it seemed a long time to m, and immediately started where he had left off before I tried to stop him. I struggled helplessly against my bonds as the cold fingers again began their assault on my flesh. The fingers felt colder than before, almost impossibly cold. He ran them up my legs, stopping at the inner thigh, then across my belly and the undersides of my firm breasts. By this time, the contact of flesh was warming his touch and I began to relax. He sensed this and pulled his fingers away. I pulled against my bonds, trying to offer my breasts to him. I heard him laugh softly.
