Nameless

She's standing in the middle of the room. He pulls the knot tight at the base of her neck, the velvety material stretching across her eyes. She can feel the cloth catching hold of her eyelashes. She keeps her eyes closed. Everything is dark. Everything is quiet.

She strains her ears for a hint of what he is doing. Patience keeps her rooted to the spot, her hands hang by her side. She is naked except for the makeshift blindfold. For a moment, she feels unsure of herself. But she trusts him, and wills herself to relax. Deep breaths. In and out. She becomes more attuned to the silence.

She feels his warmth before she feels the touch on her cheek. She allows herself to sway slightly into his palm, breathing in his scent. Slowly, lightly, he traces her body: light touches on her neck and arms. The pads of his fingers feel comforting and teasing on her breast and tummy.

As his fingers trace to her thighs, she spreads her legs shoulder width apart - giving him access to all of herself.

Today, he seems to be in a teasing mood. Every touch is gentle and light. Unexpectedly, his mouth closes on her nipple. She catches her breath. But even his mouth is gentle. She wants to beg for more, but she doesn't make a sound.

As his mouth teases her nipple, his hand reaches up for the other breast. He gently strokes her breast, getting closer and closer to the center. Finally, he pinches that nipple: lightly rolls it between his fingers. She whimpers. More.

Hearing the desperation in her breath, he bites down lightly on the nipple in his mouth. She gasps. The fingers on her other breast have become rougher, pulling and pinching. His other hand teases between her legs, just barely touching her thighs. In the darkness, she can focus. In the darkness, she can let go.

Her hands move from her sides to his head. She laces her fingers through his hair, squeezing. It's getting harder to stand straight. Her pelvis is moving slightly, searching out his hand. He continues this torture long enough for her to think that it will never stop. Then, with one last bite at her nipple, he comes up, facing her.

Both hands are now pulling on her breasts. He tugs. She steps forward. Their mouths meet for a kiss. He is chaste, but she moans into the kiss as he continues teasing her nipples.

Carefully, he steps back, pulling her along. She can't see, but she knows that they are getting closer to the couch. It's hard to tell in the dark where in the room they are, and how many of the small, timid steps she will need to take to get where he is going. All she can focus on is the blissful mix of pain and pleasure coming from her breasts.

Finally, it seams like they've arrived. His hands leave her breast. He grabs on to her hair at the base of her neck, bringing her in for a kiss. His tongue gently tastes her lips. Her nipples buzz with the lack of touch.

She feels a gentle pressure, pushing her down. She smiles into the kiss, and slowly kneels. Her knee finds a pillow at the base of the couch. She settles in comfortably. She hears him sit on the couch in front of her, legs on either side of her.

Today, he is in control. She lets him push her hands together at the small of her back. Rope isn't necessary. It is clear that he wants her to keep them there. He guides her face to his crotch. Her mouth is slightly open, and when she feels the head of his penis on her lips, she licks it with her tongue. His little gasp is all the encouragement she needs.

Her tongue swirls around his head, making it slick with saliva. Carefully, she takes the head between her lips, sucking gently. The head pops into her mouth. She flicks her tongue on the underside. He is sensitive there, and gasps quietly. She bobs her head a bit, letting the ridge slide in and out of her mouth.

She wants to cup his whole length, but her hands are clasped behind her. Instead, she moves her mouth to the base of his penis, and licks with broad strokes to the tip. She can feel him twitching, his breath is getting faster.

She licks her lips, and after a few more teasing flicks of her tongue on his tip, she takes him in her mouth as deep as she can. He groans and can't quiet stop himself from bucking his hips up. He holds him in her mouth for a moment, letting him adjust to the feeling, and then slowly starts moving her head up and down. It is a dreadfully teasing pace, she knows, but turnabout is fair play.

He lets her have her fun, enjoys the teasing pace, and then buries his hand in her hair. Careful not to push too hard, he takes control of the rhythm. She focuses on suction, occasionally flicking her tongue as he lets her come up for air.

He speeds up, the rhythm becoming more and more desperate. She can feel that he is close. She hums approval, hoping to push him over the edge. But instead, with a throaty moan, he stops. Shaking a little from the strain of self control, he pulls her up on his lap.

For the first time that night, his fingers find her wetness. He isn't teasing any more. He mouth on her breast, his fingers stretch her out. She's moaning as he gets her ready. She knows exactly what's coming, and needs it, wants it, too.

When she can comfortably take two of his fingers, she hears him putting on the condom. Her hands, no longer clasped behind her back, reach out to steady herself on his shoulders. Together, they align themselves. Slowly, she sinks onto his lap, taking him in. She is tight, and the stretching is immensely satisfying. Finally, he is fully inside her. They both breath deeply, and she rests her head on his shoulder as she gets used to the intrusion.

His hands reach up to her breasts again, and as he rolls her nipples, she gasps and rolls her hips in response. She can feel him reaching for something on the couch, but mostly she is lost in the sensations. Then, she feels the sharp pinch of the clamp on her right nipple. The sound of pleasure comes from deep inside: she can't hold back. Her pelvis seems to be moving on its own.

Her world narrows to him and her chest as she feels him attaching the second clamp to her left nipple. It's exquisite torture. As she moves up and down on his length, the clamps sway, pulling on her nipples. She can't focus, can't think straight. Her fingers dig into his shoulders. Her back arches. She throws her head back, her mouth is hanging open.

Even through this bliss, she can feel that he won't last long. And she loves it. She loves that even helpless as she is, blind and wild with pleasure, she can have that effect on him.

They are both breathless, frantic. She angles her torso, and she feels him hit that spot. Her breasts are swaying wildly now. He is gasping and moaning with her.

And though the gasps and whimpers she hears "Please..."

She knows what he wants. But she waits a moment, enjoying the power. Enjoying hearing him doing all he can to control himself. It's beautiful. The sounds he makes.

"May I?" he asks again.

This time, she doesn't make him wait. "Yes."

The word sends him into a frenzy. He's bucking his hips, and she's matching every stroke. She feels him shudder. Bury himself inside her. She rolls her hips a little as she feels him pulse inside her. Both of them are gasping for breath, holding on for dear life. After a few moments, she feels him relax, his body melting, all his muscles relaxing.

She leans back slightly, carefully untying the blindfold. When she can see again, she meets his eyes. He has a slightly glaze expression on his face. She leans down and kisses his forehead, his nose, and then his lips. "Nice?" she asks.

He mumbles out something barely decipherable as "nice". She chuckles. It's rare to seem him lose the power of speech. Gently, she removes the clamps, and rolls off of him.

Side by side, they sit for a while, holding on to each other.