It's late. Very Late. Long gone past the witching hour where everything dirty and depraved has already been done in an alcoholic haze. A drunken stupor of haphazard fuck ups or why not choices that result in shameful walks and endless excuses. I was so wasted. Or I have an early meeting at work. Excuses that gloss across the endless minds of endless impatient stupidity. I am not impatient. I work long and hard for what is mine, and I WILL patiently wait till way past the witching hour for this is my time.
The drive isn't as long as it is in my mind. Though twenty minutes can feel endless after you've worked through a long hard day, as I have. It's late enough that I know that kids are tucked in, and your latest read has been carelessly left in my place on the bed. But this is my time, so even while sleeping, your nice warm and wet body is mine for the taking.
I quietly park, not out of noiseless nerves or neighborly fears. I am as quiet as the night because I am on edge. My keys effortlessly unlock the door, and my stride directly toward the bedroom to take what I've been waiting for. Except I still myself when I see you lying there. Sprawled out in nothing but a T-shirt and skimpy underwear. Your thighs slightly parted and hands spread apart Your sexy slumbering form giving me ideas...
My quiet stride continues as I step toward the closet. Enjoying your helplessness and grinning at what I've prepared for you. After a few silent seconds I bring over some silk straps and tie you down. The slip-nots slide over your limbs easily and as gently as spiderwebs, ensuring you don't wake. Then, when I'm ready, and only when I'm ready; do I place a night mask over your eyes and muffle your mouth with a deep biting kiss.
You scream at my smothering, but I silence you, forcing my mouth onto yours, in a hard reminder that you are owned. It doesn't take long for your blindfolded bewildering noises to turn into a low guttural groan. You strain to reach for more than my kiss, your body trying to pull itself up to mine. But I'm purposely keeping myself inches away from your bound silk reach. Only when your body sighs in futility do I let up, though I take one last hard nip. This time, I draw blood and you hiss at me in needy frustration.
"Let me up. I want you." There is no weariness in your wanton rasp. Your blood is already boiling, but I want to take my time.
"It's late." I remind you and slowly start to tickle up and down your body with slow and steady kisses. I do not take a straight path. I'm enjoying your sightless curiosity and pleasure.
