In Ann's Room and on Her Floor

Ann greeted me at the door, "hey, hello, it's been a while, hasn't it?"

Yes, it had been too long, but we had one of those occasional relationships that often went several months with nothing going on, both of us too busy with the rest of our lives, and then we would meet a few times, usually quite close together. It suited us both and meant no pressure, and the arrangement also meant that we would enjoy each other's company fresh each time.

I suppose you could call us distant friends or close strangers, take your pick. What it did mean, was that I was comfortable enough with her that I could explore some of my edges, and she was comfortable letting me try. She had her own edges, I knew that. And sometimes I would just put myself into her hands, and go with her flow.

I had called earlier and said, here's the thing, this time; and Ann replied, leave it with me, I can do that, in fact I'm very good at that. So I knew what I wanted, but didn't know how I would get there, but she did. I was putting myself in her hands. Do what you will.

Small talk begins, and she drapes her long legs over mine as she sits, half beside me, half on my lap. Her long blonde hair flows through my fingers like a silken scarf, and I pull it from her face with my fingers so I can caress her cheek and throat with my lips. She arches her throat back and small whispers sigh from her mouth, no coherent words, nothing sensible, nothing not.

Ann turns to me and asks, frankly, "do you still want to do this?"

My cock pulses against her thigh in response.

"Ah, yes, I see that you do. Follow me then."

She rises, and takes me by the hand. In her high boots, high heels, she gazes me straight in the eye. Her glasses (which I had never taken from her face as I always felt they were her mask, even when they were only thing left on her body except the same small ear-rings she always wore) her glasses make her blue eyes larger. Behind blue eyes: hers are pale blue whereas mine are darker, and mine darken with the dark of the clouds and lighten with the clear sky. Behind blue eyes, does she see my soul? How dark am I?

I pull her close, and wrap my arms around her slender back, her fineness. In her high heels Ann is my height and her legs are long. The red gown falls away between her thighs and her breasts are high in their corset and half cups. A cleavage pushes up, and I smile, because I know this is an illusion. She still has the breasts she had when she was eighteen, just a girl, just slight breasts on her slender frame.

Our tongues meet, a gentle caress, and I taste her lips. We hold each other close, our welcoming kiss gentle and slow, and I touch the end of her nose with my finger. This infrequent woman, I am fond of her. She knows my moods, I think, and goes with them and sometimes subtly shapes them. But today will not be subtle, I have made my request and she will go there.

Ahead of me, Ann slowly walks up the stairs. She walks three steps ahead of me, so that my head is level with the glorious sway of her ass, sheathed in the red gown. Near the top of the stairs, where she can rest her arms on the landing at the top, she stops and bends forward, and takes her weight on her arms. She is poised, posed, perfect, and her ass is curved and rounded in front of me.

I caress one cheek in a hand, and I run my other hand up the inside of her thigh, feeling the warm band of flesh above her stocking top. Between her legs there is silken smooth cloth, and I run my fingers from it to the band of her skin. She straightens up and keeps walking, and looks back over her shoulder at me. Already there is a new look on her face, her smile more distant, perhaps?

In her room she again stops, and keeps facing away from me. I press myself to her back and once again I pull the skein of hair from her neck and kiss her there, just behind her ear. Ann likes my slowness, and with one hand I cup a breast in its corseted cup and my other covers her belly, and with my open palm I feel the slight rounded fullness of her there.

She stands in front of me for maybe a minute, leaning her head back so it rests on my shoulder, my hand still on her belly and the other finding the crease between her breasts and idly trailing my fingers over the gentle curves and along the crease.

Ann then turns to face me, and slowly undoes the buttons on my shirt, running her hands over my chest and belly, easing the sleeves from my arms. She carefully folds the shirt and places it over the back of a chair. She then crouches before me, looking up at me. She places one palm on my crotch and feels my fullness, and then undoes the buckle on my belt and the button on the waist band. She slowly lowers the zip and eases the tops of my trousers down my legs. She makes a point now of ignoring the swell in my jockey shorts, and instead undoes the laces of my shoes. I lift each foot, one by one, and she eases the shoes off my feet, and also discards the socks.

I stand before her, she crouches below me, her red dress falling between her thighs, her long blonde hair falling fine over her face. She sweeps the hair back over her shoulder, and then places her fingers along the band of my shorts. My cock is hard and bunched in the confines of the cloth. Ann eases her finger along the top of the cloth and slowly reveals the length of my shaft, which now springs free and away from my body into her hand. Holding it gently, she eases the cloth down my legs until I am before her, fully naked, her hand gently griping my heat.

She is still fully dressed and here is her first denial. Her skin is hidden from me, and when I reach to her red gown and the buttons on it, to loosen it and make it fall from her slender body, she prevents me. Ann does not say a word, but with a subtle shift of her body away from my hand she denies me this undressing. She takes a step back from me, her hand still gripping my cock, and she tightens her hold. It is clear I am to follow her but she is leading me now. I have placed my cock into her hand, and she has placed a small distance between us.

She turns to the bed and pushes me down onto it. I lie on the bed, my legs over the edge, my feet on the floor. She stands between my legs and pushes my feet apart with hers, a small kick on one foot, and a small weight of her boot on the toes of my other foot. My feet move where she wants them, and Ann stands over me, looking down at me. A slowness comes over her movements, and she is now slow and deliberate, and she looks down on me. I am naked and spread below her and there is a shift in the room.

A slow smile comes to Ann's lips, and she raises her head, just enough to look down at me, over the top of her glasses. It is a deliberate school ma'am look, I think, and a little piece of theatre. It is her way of saying this is really just a game. But then I see a slight hardness in her eyes, a steeliness that I have not seen before, and I am not so sure.

She takes one step back from the edge of the bed, and she undoes the buttons she has denied me. The red gown is buttoned all down the front, perhaps six or eight slits of cloth with red sewn buttons. She flips the buttons through the tight slits and the cloth is now split around her breasts, and then she lowers one shoulder and it falls, a cascade of cloth at her feet. She steps from it, her long black boots laced to her knees, black stockings to the tops of her thighs, thin straps pulling them up to a garter belt about her waist, a small triangle of silk at the base of her belly. Her breasts are pushed high in a half corset, clinched in tight below her ribs.

Ah God, I want to reach out and touch her bare flesh, but the stepping back, quite deliberately, tells me that I cannot. It is a simple command, but my hands remain by my sides. My hands might be stilled, but my cock is not, and bounces from my belly at the sight of her.

Ann's eyes glint once again and now she turns away from me, her delicious ass cheeks split by the single narrow cloth of a thong, her slender back half hidden by her long hair. She reaches behind her back and unclips the hooks of her bra, and slides the thin straps down from her shoulders. Again I am denied, for my eyes ache to see her small nipples, pink and tight on her slight breasts, but she is holding her body away from me now.

But she bends at the waist, her hands reaching for the laces of her boots. At last I am treated to a lush tease, for she places her feet apart and there is a gap between her legs, and the firm round globes of her ass are before my eyes. I let out an impromptu gasp at the sight of her darkness, hidden, and she looks at me, with her head down. I cannot interpret the look. Ann has peeled the boots from her legs now, and also rolls down her stockings. She then spins quickly down to the floor and turns to me, and once again I am denied, because I ache to see her hard nipples but cannot.

Ann takes one of my feet in her hand, and I can feel the soft roll of fine silk rolling up my leg, and she is rolling one of her dark stockings up my shins, over my knees and pulled high and tight on my thigh. I look down, startled at the sight, and turned on by it as she feminises my leg. She does the same with the other stocking, and now stands and gestures me backwards onto the bed. She stands between my legs, and my knees are raised and I am in a pair of women's stockings, and my ass and groin are exposed before her gaze, my tight prick hard up the centre of my gut. I lie exposed to Ann, and she looks down on me.

Her legs are long, her cunt still hidden, the clips of her garter belt still hanging from the strap around her waist. Her high breasts are beautifully tipped by hard, deep red nipples, tight already, coloured darker than her usual natural pink. Her nipples are dark, the same dark as her lips, and I realise that her lips are also deeper red than the usual colour lipstick she wears. Ann is darker than I have known her before.

She gestures me higher on the bed, and takes one wrist and ties it back above my head with a leather strap, angled and tied to the corner of the bed. She crawls over my body and does the same with my other wrist, and I am shackled tight to the top of the bed, my legs silken covered, spread before me. She places a strap about one ankle and pulls it tight to the bottom of the bed, and finishes the tie on my other ankle. I am tied, spread-eagled on her bed, my limbs a star, tied. My legs are in her dark stockings and there is a reversal here.

Ann disappears from the room and I am left alone for a minute or so. I wonder what she is doing, but there are no sounds to give me any clues. My cock is the only thing that can move, for I sense that my voice is forbidden, and my desires no longer matter. Ann will make me her thing, and I have given myself to her. I wonder how much of the mistress she will adopt, for I do not know this part of her.

Ann returns to the room, and in her hand she carries a short lash. I hadn't asked for that, and my cock softened and then throbbed. Fuck, I didn't know what I thought about the idea of a lash. She paced to and fro at the foot of the bed, like a prowling cat, and then she shook her head, and flicked her hair back from her face. I could see that she has made a decision of some sort, has decided what her mood is, and I was now under her control until she chose to untie me. Fuck, what was her mood?

"So, you want a treatment, then?"

Her voice has a tone I had never heard, deeper than her usual light voice with its high laugh and her easy smile. Ann was sterner now, her eyes a warning, her voice darker. My heart beat quickens, I am strapped and trapped on the bed and I am no longer sure any more. She has me in dark smooth stockings and my cock is rigid and shafted, straight on my gut. I look down, and the head of my prick is a deep rich red, blood filled and hard. The colour of the head is the same colour as her lips and nipples.

She prowls at the end of the bed like a wild cat, and snaps the crop against her own thigh, raising a red welt. Christ, if she does this to herself, what will she do to me? Ann turns to me, her fingers lightly rubbing the redness, absent-mindedly it seems, as if she does this often. Her face is new to me, I have not seen this look before, and I am uneasy. But fuck, my cock is rigid and it betrays me.

Ann crawls up the bed and takes my thick prick in her hand and slips a cock ring down the shaft, pushing it tight to the base of my prick, and I know that a countdown has started. Ann will stimulate me so that my prick stays hard, intense and full, and then she will release the ring and, ah fuck, the pain and pleasure that will bring.

She observes the angle of my cock as the blood swells, and she then twists a length of thin rope around my balls and pulls them away from my body. She has prepared my prick and balls now, and kneels above my thighs, gazing down at my tied body which is now adorned with her stockings, rope and ring. She reaches over to a drawer beside the bed and pulls out an eye mask, which she straps in place, darkening my eyes. Denying me this sense, my other senses will become more acute.

The first sense that I strain is my hearing. I want clues as to what she might do next, but Ann's floor is carpeted, and she is in bare feet so she is noiseless, and I get no sense of where she is in the room. There she is, up by the top corner of the bed, for she has taken my hand in hers, and threads her fingers through mine, holding my hand. Ah God, here she is, as there is a weight on the bed and her lips are on mine and she kisses me, her tongue thrusting into my mouth. Her sharp teeth bite my lip, no blood, but a warning.

Here she is again, for she has placed one delectable breast into the palm of my hand. I know the weight of her breasts, and can tell that she is bending over my hand and lightly gracing my palm with her breast, for its touch is silken and the skin soft, the bud of her nipple hard. I press the weight of her fullness up to her chest and reach the limit of the wrist shackle.

She graces my outstretched hand by leaning further over me and her breast fills my hand. I caress her tight nipple and she lifts the weight from me so that she gives herself a tug on the bud. Ann favours the palm of my hand for perhaps ten seconds but then she is air and gone. My fingers follow her gone body into the air like a supplication.

Now there is a weight on the bed near my legs, and I feel her silent fingers near my thighs. She rolls one of the stockings down my leg, and I have liked the sensation of the fine material against my skin but it is gone. The visual thrill is only in my mind now, but then I realise she is exposing bare flesh. My skin, cooler now the stocking is gone, rises in goose bumps. Is that the coolness, or the fear and thrill of bare flesh? She has a lash.

Ann wriggles the rolled stocking under the strap on my ankle and peels it from my foot. A finger traces from beside my groin, lightly edges the side of a swollen testicle, and then a single line of deeper sensation runs down my thigh and shin and under the sole of my foot as she slides a sharp nail along my flesh.

Then hot wet heat as she sucks my toes into her mouth, one by one, a hard stretching suck, her tongue swirling the soft lobe of each toe, and flickering the skin between. As she sucks on my toe her firm fingers pull upon the other toes and my bones feel stretched and longer.

Ann repeats the routine on my other leg and now both stockings are gone and the flesh of my thighs is bare, and I imagine the slice of her crop at any moment. But fuck, no, now she is at my other hand and repeats the suck but now my fingers and thumb are stretched and in the hot wet heat of her mouth. She is hungrier on my fingers and takes two together and fucks down on them with her mouth, and my fingers thrust into her wet mouth like a small cock. I can hear the wet spit coated suck, and I picture her saliva stringing from her lips to my fingers. I hear Ann, and her suckling is wet and her teeth bite, and my fingers are slick and she suckles like she is feeding. And my thighs are bare.

But she is gone again, and her absence is sudden. I hear a door open, one of the cupboards on the far wall, and the slide of a drawer. I hear a metallic rattle. Then her fingers are on one of my nipples and her mouth sucks my tit to a tightness, so her fingers can grab the little nub. There is a sharp pressure on my nipple and it is clamped, a tight small pain threading into my breast. And again, the other nipple is clamped and there is a cold weight across my chest and I guess the nipple clamps are chained together.

Yes, there is a simultaneous pull on both tits, and a little pain pulls out of me. I gasp, and there is a low laugh, and another pull. I feel weight on the bed beside me, and know that Ann is sitting there looking down at me, my cock thick and red in its ring and my balls in their rope, my nipples joined by the clamps and the chain. She makes no sound, but at her whim pulls on the chain and my nipples stretch, and the nerve connects my tightly clamped peaks to a throb at the base of my cock. She sits, and for a slow few minutes teases and pulls on the rope and chain. I imagine Ann sitting looking down at me, but I cannot imagine the look on her face, and I no longer know what she might do. She tweaks the chain one more time and then her weight is gone from the bed, and there is silence.

Silence. Silence in the room. My ears strain for any sound but there is silence, only silence.

My nipples burn and the heat in my prick is full and my prick beats with my heart. Silence.

And then a slow slide of silk on skin, that is what it must be, some last clothing, gone. I remember that Ann still had a small triangle of cloth covering her sex when my eyes were covered, so I guess that the sliver of sound was this tiny thread of cloth sliding down her legs.

There is weight on the bed, on each side of my body, and Ann straddles me. I feel her move closer up over my chest and I cannot work out how she is moving. Then I realise she must have her legs up by my head, she is facing my feet, and I can scent her. The musk of her centre is over my face and then, oh God yes, she is sitting on my face and her ass is over my mouth. Ann's sweet ass hole is on my mouth and I immediately pierce her tight muscle with my tongue and she pushes down on me, forcing herself onto my tongue. I push as hard as I can into her tightness, my tongue as long and stiff and pointed as I can make it, for I adore the muskiness of her tight ass hole.

I fuck Ann's asshole with my tongue, and then alternate long sucks on it, sucking on that tight orifice and then my tongue thrusts into it again. She pushes down on to me, and I feel both her cheeks pull wide and she is opening her ass wide for my mouth. Fuck, my tongue and lips are swollen with my spit, as I push every liquid in my mouth into her hole for lubricant. I hear a deepening in her breathing as Ann pleasures her asshole on my mouth, and when I fuck my tongue into her I feel a tight clench in return, as she tightens and loosens that muscle. Ah shit, ah yes, my tongue is in her shit hole and I love the tart taste of her.

And then, fuck, shit, more; her mouth is down over my cock and she is sucking down hard over the shaft of my cock, and I hear her long sucks of her spit as she devours my prick. I feel the come start to swell deep inside me, but I don't want to come now, not yet, and I urge myself to some numbness. I cannot tell her to stop on my cock, for my mouth is stopped by the hot centre of her, so I slow my tongue fuck and hope that she senses my shift in pace and understands why I am slowing. She does, and lifts her head from my long prick, and pulls my balls down away from my body as a slowing.