A dark night waits. Not leaping like a tiger, but patient like a spider.
She knows it sits, that night, somewhere ahead. She has glimpsed the stars that twinkle in the black velvet dreams of her heart. She has seen the glimmer around the corner as it slips away from her. Far enough away that she doesn't fear this coming dusk, near enough that she feels her freedom as an aging friend who filters off to another life.
She breathes deep. The sounds of the blackness ahead fill her senses. She peers into those shadows and goose pimples quicken over her skin. Moans swelter through the gloom. Deep groans of lost desires. She shivers. It feels like the movies where she needs to go down the dark basement stairs, yet knows only too well she should not. She should stay in the sun. Safe until her dreams drag her down to that whispering gate.
Like the lost heroine, she is too late. She has walked that path too far to turn back and when that cloth is drawn over her eyes and tied behind her head, she has no choice but to bow to her fate. She has been his since that first kiss stole her will.
She lies limp in his arms. Her curves, full and lush, have sighed into his body. Sated, taken and torn, she flickers between astral planes.
Somewhere in another world, he kisses her eyebrow. She stirs. His lips touch her too heavy eyelids. She shimmies her body without raising her lashes. The room is cool, but she is cozy in his arms. His breath warms her. Cinnamon and sex invades her dreams and she sighs.
A touch of her cheek, a slight of her ear. He snuggles closer, his neck reaching around for a tender nip at the back of her scalp. She leaves her eyes settled in repose as another sigh rustles through her twilight mind. A smile languishes upon her lips, left there by the night's pleasures. His fingertips stroke her back. Delight her spine in tingles of discovery. Her body anticipates each move. The skin tightens in hopes of being next, then slips into delicious murmurs as his touch passes. From neck to hip takes a lifetime.
When his fingers stretch their way across her bottom, she moans and lets her eyelashes raise enough to fall into his gaze. There are marks under his hands that will give her thrills of remembering for days to come. He traces them lightly and she shivers in utter abandon.
Her moan speaks of those lines of red. Of hanging from the door, rough hands pinching her nipples, leather straps and strands lashing across her ass in between his gentle kisses and delicious touch. Goose pimples flow over her body, up and down, back and forth; as memory floods her senses and desire fills the air.
Every time she sees or feels the red markings - months and years after they fade with time - she knows she will moan just like this. Her sex will open and her need will flower. How he has done this to her, she no longer knows. Merely that she cannot live without the ministrations of his whip.
She can no more give up the feel of his hands on her than she can stop her heart from racing to his voice. No more give up the light kiss on her neck than the struggle of finding herself bound and at his mercy. She can no more stop the flow of excitement at the sound of his belt snapping through the loops of his pants than she can stop her moans and pleadings as he sends her beyond her boundaries.
She knows all these thoughts one by one as his fingers slip over the marks left upon her delicate skin. When his fingers bunch the muscles of her ass and pull her sharply into his kiss, she gasps with sheer joy. His tongue takes over her mouth, shoving in and out in a simulation of animal lust. It slides over her lips in luscious waves of taste and tease. She groans and lets her body melt.
The dark of a blindfolded can't stop her eyes from peering into the night. Her senses sharpen and her every feeling is feral and sharp. His pinches become agony and his kisses utterly absorbing. Her body twists upon the edge of a razor, her nipples so stiff that even his lips bring her back arching into a full spasm. His lips nibble their way around her breasts, down onto her ribs and the sides of her belly. She squirms. Dangles at the end of the cuffs holding her hands above her head and her back against the hard, cool wood of the bathroom door.
His fingers knead her taut muscles. They dig into the flesh and untie the knots of her anxieties. She has come to fear this part of her torment as much as any other. She loves the way he relaxes her tension, but knows it leads to her complete surrender. Opens her very soul to the deep thrust of him. He softens her, takes her will, then drives his brute force into her heart. Penetrates her every defense and inner barrier.
She vaguely struggles. Resists herself as much as his mastery. He grasps her ankles one at a time and straps them to something held in place by the closed door. It feels like the soft wrist restraints he sometimes uses on her. Or maybe he has tied her with her robe belts again. She shakes her head side to side. A half hearted attempt to ward off her need. Her craving for his treatment.
Her heels bump against the solid wood. Her ass gets pushed on so that her sex is prominent and open. Her shoulders can't relax and her tits are forced out. Already heavy with need, they sway with her every shift. They act as weights, keeping her off balance. She cringes inside, knowing they are too prominent. Feeling them too acutely. They are begging for his attentions and she knows he won't ignore them.
He presses his lips on hers. Softly. Works them side by side until she feels her body give. She is left hanging limp as the kiss goes on and on and on.
She knows the dark night that lies ahead. She feels it as a part of her that has yet to develop.
Her body gives itself over to him. His sweet kisses give her thrills of delirium. Desire washes over her. His hands moving on her skin flushes her from chest to scalp. His fingers twine with hers, smooth her face, delight her lips. It is gentleness now and their mutual excitement thickens the atmosphere.
Still facing her, his lips penetrate her soul. They slide over her neck and play with her collar bones. She can barely keep herself able to kiss back. His hands grab her and hold her against him. Take the air from the room.
She feels him harden and finds herself so needy that she will do anything. Over and over. Whatever he needs. Whatever he wants. As surely as though he has her still tied to the door. Or the bed. Or the mast.
His lips rake her ear. "Do you want to sit on top of me?" He doesn't speak it as a question. He talks as though he knows every wish and thought of her heart.
"Take my cock all the way inside?" He's panting. It gives her deep warmth to hear how she stirs him. "I want you to fuck me, come on me, stop and lick my cock clean. Then sit on me again."
He has her pulled hard against him. His breath ragged and gasping in her ear. "I want you to shove your beautiful tits in my face and kiss me with your cum on your lips." She squirms in desperate need. "Do you want that?"
It isn't spoken like a question. His hands move up her back, she arches into him and just as she feels herself climaxing, he relaxes. Releases her. Kisses her lips and rolls onto his back.
She falls locked into his side and smothers his chest with licks and kisses. She can't help herself. Excitement, pride and desire well up inside her and she wants to kiss every bit of him.
Her mouth nudges over his ribs, his muscles. She tongues his nipples, delighting in his moans. She works her way over his stomach to his thighs. She nibbles at the muscles, gliding ever closer to his throbbing member.
His balls answer to her lips by bouncing. They act sensitive, bunching closer to his rock hard pole, then relaxing as her mouth suckles them.
His moans come faster and louder. She gets indescribable feelings knowing she pleases him. His cock is smooth and silky even as it feels impossibly hard and when it slides over her tongue, she hears his groans inside her chest. She strokes with her lips, her tongue, her hair. She feels her nipples stiff on his thighs and she rubs them lightly. She feels his jism rise, tastes the pearl that glides to the top and licks the slit seeking more.
When his cock begins to twitch as though ready to explode, she rocks back, slips her knees out over his thighs and impales herself in one delirious swoop. She flies. Soaring up and down in utter abandon. The way he fills her takes her control. She thrills on him, riding with the wind flowing around her body. She feels him throbbing like an engine as she comes. Her senses return slowly, but she knows enough to leap from him. That he's so close, she cannot wait another moment.
Her lips nibble at the smooth skin. They greedily take in her scent, her taste, her cum. His cock is soaked! She can hardly believe all the fluids that have poured from her. His pubic hair is matted and she licks under his balls where the droplets are thick. She cleans his entire cock, taking extra care to pull its full length into her throat.
When she jumps back on top, she leans forward, dangling her heavy breasts, dancing them upon his chest and squashing them flat when she kisses him. She rubs her wet lips over his and pushes her tongue in and out. Smears her cum over and in his mouth. The excitement makes her come over again. And again.
This time when she dismounts, she pulls him slowly from her grasping cunt. She watches the juices flow out over his hard member. They groan in unison and she feels the harmony coursing through her body. She grasps him with her hand and bends in half to lick and suck at his staff. Upside down, she hungrily gobbles at the slick rod, slipping and sliding her lips over every part of it. Shoving it back in her sopping pussy, she settles firmly onto his groin, reaches behind his head and stuffs his face between her heaving breasts. She bucks and grinds as he licks and sucks at the heavy globes. She bends and kisses him as she comes.
A dark night coils. Somewhere ahead of her, a blackness readies to pounce. She frets, knowing it is there. It waits for her. Calls to her. Makes her squirm.
Squinting out into the deep, she feels the wild. The cloth covering her eyes is silk and delicious, but anxiety overruns her senses. Blindfolded, her imagination gets the better of her and she whimpers in anticipation.
His lips move back to their work. Her thighs nibbled, they twist and flaunt in hopes his mouth opens wider and eats her whole. Teeth scrape at her knees. Where she is normally ticklish, she now burns with need. As he slips his lips over her delicate skin, he holds her in place. His hands grabbing and gripping.
