Author's Note: Thank you to IDidItMyself for help editing this piece.
*****
I'm curled comfortably in your arms and we're just talking about nothing in particular. My fingers play idly with the hair on your chest. I feel cozy and safe all the while your proximity is distracting. It's usually distracting.
I'm wearing your shirt from earlier and I still have the stockings and garter belt on, though my panties are somewhere on the floor with your pants. Your hand moves to my neck as you kiss me, shifting so that you lean over me. I eagerly return the kiss, my arms wrapping around you while my hips move against you.
Your hand slides from my neck to my breast, teasing the nipple before sliding down my side to grab my hip and pull me tight to you. I can feel your hard cock between us and I'm already wet. Your hand leaves my hip to take ahold of my hair as you kiss and lightly bite my neck. I'm already squirming against you, wet and ready, when you whisper in my ear, "Who's my good girl?"
A slight shudder of anticipation flows through me and I feel your smile against my neck before I barely whisper, "I am, Sir."
Your hand releases my hair and moves slowly to the buttons of the shirt. I go to help, eager to please, and you take my hands pinning them over my head beneath one of yours. I squirm beneath you, my arousal driving every other thought from my mind. I want you desperately and groan at the wait, even if it's momentary.
You smile and lean down to kiss the newly uncovered space between my breasts. My hips grind against you as your free hand continues to unbutton the shirt, exposing me fully.
"Stay like this," you say with a firm tone that melts me further.
"Yes, Sir."
"Good girl."
You leave the bed only long enough to get the rope. I love the feel as you wrap it around my wrists, binding them together before attaching the free end to a rope under the mattress.
"Is that too tight, Jen?"
I shake my head, my excitement and anticipation palpable, before managing, "No, Sir."
You give a slight nod in acknowledgement and move to the end of the bed pulling two ends of rope from under the bed by the corners and being careful not to pull my arms too tightly over my head. I know you like to see my reactions and I wonder what you have planned. You take my right ankle and pull it towards the right corner of the bed. My impulse is to move my left leg in response, but I catch myself as you wind the rope around my right ankle.
"Good girl."
I feel my cheeks redden both with the embarrassment of being caught and the pride of pleasing you. You move to my left ankle, pulling it to the left corner of the bed and securing it there. The rush of my vulnerability washes over me and a new cascade of juices make me squirm. We had talked about "rope stuff" and you tested some knots on me; however, this is the first time we've seriously done anything with it.