Restraint Ch 01

I woke up panting, tangled in the covers. My boyfriend snored quietly next to me. Sweat beaded on my forehead and slicked the joints of my body, and the juice from my aching pussy gleamed halfway down one exposed thigh. I threw off the blanket to try and cool my overheated body with the night air.

I had dreamed of him again--my sweet, passionate, and now-married best friend. He had been attached and unattainable since I first new him. And I went to his wedding and toasted and laughed, boyfriend at my side, and then left early, pleading migraine.

Married. He had chosen her before he met me, and now he had affirmed and consecrated that choice. He was happy. She was beautiful and kind and funny. I couldn't resent either of them. But that didn't stop the dreams.

I had known him less than a month when the first dream came. It was clear and simple and straightforward, like dreams never are, and so beautiful and vivid that just the memory of it could still make my panties damp.

In that first dream, we made love in the afternoon sunlight. I could feel his hands on me, his lips on my breasts, his strength as he claimed my body. His breath feathered over my skin with his hot laughter. One hand fisted in my hair as the other stroked down over my belly, and he kept his eyes on my face as he began to play with my clit. When he dipped his fingers inside me, my hips arched to meet him. His happiness and his fierce desire set fire to my blood, and when he finally gave me his cock, thrusting deep, our gasps mixed with triumphant laughter.

And then I woke up, still feeling the phantom thrust of his cock, my heart still beating in time with his laugh.

I knew then that I loved him. I think I'd loved him at first sight, but after the dream, I couldn't deny it. I knew he was with someone, though, and I wasn't a cheater. Unless maybe his girlfriend was an ogre? Then I met her, and damn it, I liked her.

That had been years ago, and since then we'd earned new degrees, tried on a handful of careers, consoled each other in hard times and celebrated some good ones too. When his girl spent a year living abroad, I sympathized with his impatience and longing, and respected his boundaries. When I found a new crush, he laughed at my giddy reports and encouraged me.

I never told him about my dreams of him. I didn't know if the sexual undercurrent was all on my side, and I didn't want to find out. Close as we were, I couldn't bear to risk our friendship.

Now, as I lay recovering from this latest dream, I turned to look at my boyfriend. He was still fast asleep, one arm over his head, his strong shoulders bare to the moonlight. He was a beautiful man, and I loved him, but it wasn't the same. I felt familiar stirrings of guilt as my cunt ached with desire for another.

In this dream, we were in my friend's workshop. In real life, he and his wife had just bought their house, and a new garage and workshop were at least a year out. But my dreaming mind had skipped ahead, to a setting with sawdust ground into the concrete floor and the scents of wood and oil permeating the air.

I was behind him, sitting up on the counter-height workbench, watching him as he worked the drill press. He was wearing a rumpled white button-down shirt, sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms, over broken-in jeans and scuffed work boots.

He finished, powering down the machine, then turned to me with a wicked half-smile. I realized abruptly that I was naked from the waist up, with my wrists bound above my head and suspended from the peg-board lining the wall.

Cool air washed over my breasts, and the tips were strained tight. My ass was protected from the rough work bench by a pair of denim cut-off shorts and nothing else. Looking down, I could see that my shorts were freshly cut off, hardly frayed, and the legs of the jeans were lying discarded on the shop floor, a utility knife resting on top.

As I shifted, I could feel the thick seam at the crotch of my shorts rasping along my pussy and gently abrading my clit.

My feet were bare, but around each ankle I wore a thick leather cuff, a heavy steel O-ring hanging over each heel. I knew that if I kicked my legs back, I'd meet the empty air of the open shelving beneath the workbench

My dream lover lifted the piece of wood he'd been working on as he approached me. It was a simple length of two-by-two, with two small holes drilled at either end about three feet apart, and two more holes perpendicular to the first and close together in the center. He set it across my lap, then reached past me for something. The cotton of his shirt tickled the budded tips of my breasts. I pressed forward to feel more of him, but he quickly leaned back, something jingling in his closed hand.

I whimpered, and he laughed at my distress.

Opening his hand, he revealed two large eye bolts, washers, and nuts. He left the piece of board on my lap as he affixed an eye bolt to each end. He reached behind me again and retrieved a cordless drill, took the board from my lap, then knelt between my legs.

He carefully positioned the length of wood behind my calves, against the wood frame of the workbench with the eye bolts hanging down, and screwed it into place. Then he pulled a pair of steel quick links from the breast pocket of his shirt, and used each to suspend my ankles from the eye bolts.

He stood and grasped my hips, pulling me forward to perch my ass on the very edge of his workbench. Through his jeans and my shorts, his thick erection pressed against my pussy as he positioned me to his liking. I moaned and tried to grind myself on his cock, but my wrists were still suspended from the wall, above and behind my head. With my hips pulled forward, my upper body had no leverage, and all I could do was squirm.

He smiled, standing back a handsbreadth, and with one hand he lightly traced a line from my neck, over my shoulder, down to my breast. He kept his touch light, teasing, tweaking the nipple, then tickling the underside, and I shuddered with need.

Finally he lifted his other hand to cup both breasts, rolling his thumbs over the nipples, taking one into his mouth, then the other. His hands circled around to my back, pressing me closer to his hot mouth, and I could feel the tug of the restraints on my arms.

He straightened, and grabbed the ragged edge of one leg of my shorts with both of his hands. He gave a quick tug to test the material, then in one stroke tore it all the way to the waistband. He leaned over to grab the utility knife, sliced through the waistband, and then tugged the shorts out from under me and down my other leg to dangle loosely around my ankle.

His fingers plunged into my wet cunt, and I cried out. He thrust two fingers into me, then three, fucking me with his hand, stroking my clit with his thumb. His other hand slapped my breasts, tugged my nipples. My legs tightened and shook, the restraints clinking as I struggled. My head thrashed back and forth, and I begged for his cock between wordless cries for relief.

His hands left me, and I sobbed with desire, only to hear his zipper lowering carefully. I opened my eyes to watch his dick spring free of his jeans, gloriously thick and hard, the tip glistening with pre-cum. He positioned himself at my wet entrance, and with one heavy thrust, he filled me balls deep.

I screamed with need and lust, on the edge of release, as his girth stretched my tight passage. He paused, unmoving -- not to give me time to adjust, I knew, but to delay my gratification. I wanted him hard, fast, but he began with slow, steady thrusts that made me blind with desire. I was incoherent, moaning and cursing, as he drove us both to the brink and held us there.

Finally he reached between our bodies and pressed his thumb over my clit -- not stroking, just letting the thrusts of his body provide the friction. He increased the pace, driving into me, pounding my cunt, punishing me with his cock. I screamed again as I came, and felt the his orgasm echo mine as he shook against me, pinning me in place, pressing me against him.

And then I woke up.

I rolled onto my stomach to bury my head under the pillow, and tried to get back to sleep.