The Chair 10

She met him at the front door at the end of his working day, kissed him and laid his briefcase on the floor at the foot of the stairs. Taking him by the hand she led him into the lounge, pulled a chair from under the table and turned it round to face him. She pushed him down to sit and straddled her legs across him leaning in close to kiss him harder, her hands moving up his arms, over his shoulders to lace in his short dark hair. He smiled under her kiss and wrapped a hank of her long hair in his hand, pulling her face away from his to look into her eyes and ask if he could have something to eat first. She told him he could soon but she needed to finish preparing it and he had to be patient. Her fingers worked quickly down his shirt buttons, pushing both jacket and shirt down his arms and throwing them casually in a heap on the sofa. She reached behind him to the table and took one of her silk scarves usually used for tying up her hair, knotted it quickly around his wrist and tied it to the leg of the chair. Then she did the same with his right wrist. Now he was half naked, tied to a chair and hungry, great.

She stood in front of him about a foot from his knees and after releasing the buttons on her jeans, slid them down past her hips to the floor and stepped delicately out of them. Next she slowly unbuttoned her blouse, underneath she was wearing her newest corset, black silk with dark purple ribbons lacing it up the back, it did everything a corset should do, her breasts rested just inside the fabric, pushed up high, nipples barely hidden from view. Her waist was pulled in tight and her hips were accentuated, creating the perfect hour-glass figure. She raised her eyebrows giving him her best wicked grin and he bit his lip and laughed, realising he was fighting a losing battle if she wanted him now. Food could wait.

The layout of their house was such that he could see the rest of the lounge from where he sat and also through the hall to the bottom of the stairs and into the kitchen, just the sink and part of the worktops. She turned telling him she was going to finish his meal while he waited, looked over her shoulder at him, dark eyes sparking and walked slowly into the kitchen. She stood at the sink, far enough away that the water didn't splash her and began to rinse vegetables under the running tap. As she stood there he could see her breasts moving slightly above the stiff constraints of the corset as she breathed but otherwise it could be any other evening with her preparing their meal. He suddenly remembered the children and asked where they were, he really didn't want them suddenly walking in to see him tied to a chair stripped to the waist, she said they were stopping with friends and that they were all alone and wouldn't be disturbed.

Since she was standing sideways on to him he had the perfect view of her arse, rounded and firm, held in beneath the corset, shaped perfectly. His eyes ran down her thighs, past the lace tops of her black stockings to her high black heels. After three children she still managed to turn him on just by looking at her, he felt his breathing quicken and a familiar pulse in his cock. She dried the vegetables and took them over to the worktop, still in view and reaching for the 12" cooks knife ran her finger along the blade to check its edge. She began to sort and chop spring onions, not hurrying, not looking at him, just slowly and deliberately, each downward thrust with the knife causing her thighs and arse to tighten almost imperceptibly, her breasts to shudder slightly.

When she had finished the onions she wiped her hands on a cloth and walked towards him into the lounge, by turning his head to the right he could follow her progress watching her hips sway with each step her thighs smooth and glossy catching the light, her shoulder blades creamy and soft in the reddish glow from the setting sun. She reached down and turned on the stereo, one of her favourite cds of classic rat pack love songs flowing gently from the speakers. She walked back past him, not looking at him at all but out of the window behind him at the garden beyond, her hands reaching up to her lips, travelling down her throat and slowly across her breasts pausing to rub her nipples through the silk as she returned to the kitchen. Now he really was getting turned on, he loved it when she played with her body in front of him and he felt like a secret voyeur, as if he wasn't really there but was invisible to her and had stumbled across her alone in the house. Once back at the worktop she began to slice red peppers into thin strips, placing them in a neat pile on a plate at the side of her, then adding green peppers too.

The whole time as he watched her he could feel his heart increasing its pace, his cock begin to harden, his arse clenching momentarily as he bit his bottom lip and his breathing deepened. She began to wipe mushrooms at the sink, totally absorbed in this completely mundane task, looking like something from a lingerie catalogue misplaced in the real world. He couldn't be sure that she was even aware of him, she certainly didn't look at him or give any indication that she was aware of his increasing desire. She hadn't spoken to him since he asked about the children and hadn't given any indication that her mind was on anything except the vegetables in front of her. Then she licked her lips and took one delicate bite from the mushroom in her fingers, turning her head slightly to the left, her eyes travelling along the carpet between the rooms which separated them, up his legs and chest to his own eyes and smiled slightly as she chewed. She was about 12 feet from where he sat, far enough away that with being tied to the chair he had no hope at all of reaching her but close enough that he could see her nipples hardening through the corset as she watched him. She dried and wiped her hands again and placed them on her thighs caressing her skin through the thin silk of her stockings, they slid to the inside of her thighs, rising up to the black silk of her thong, touching the lace edge gently before her first two fingers on her right hand slipped beneath the fabric and began to tease her clit. Her left hand moved up to cup one breast in her palm, her thumb rubbing slowly across the nipple, causing it to harden still more as she watched his reaction. He took a deep intake of breath as she moaned slightly from the combined touch of her hands and closed her eyes. He could feel his cock uncomfortably hard beneath his trousers and groaned from the mixture of pleasure and pain. She closed her eyes, smiled to herself and stretched like a cat. When she opened her eyes she was looking straight into his and walked to him, her heels tapping across the tiles.

She knelt in front of him and without saying a word unzipped his trousers and as he shifted his weight pulled them over his arse and down his legs to his ankles. Her hands ran slowly up his calves, heat coursing through his skin at the first touch from her for almost half an hour, they continued across his thighs and his cock jumped visibly beneath his boxers which quickly followed his trousers to the floor. Without the restraint of his boxers his cock could finally stand properly erect and he slid forward on the chair trying to reach her with his legs. With his clothing around his feet he couldn't even trap her between his thighs and pull her towards him, he had no choice but to sit and watch her as she leant into him and moved catlike towards his cock.

She wasn't touching his body at all, was angled just out of reach so she could get her head almost into his lap without any of her making physical contact with him. He could feel her though, the heat from her skin burning down onto his thighs, the smell of her perfume in his nostrils, for one sublime moment he thought she was going to suck him but she stopped just short of contact again and merely knelt there, a fraction of an inch away from his balls, mouth open slightly, her breath hot on his cock. She licked her lips slowly and looked up at him, those killer eyes sparking at him again, lust written all over her face. He realised with a jolt that his cock would touch her lips if he just moved a tiny amount in his chair but he didn't. As perverse as it sounded he liked the fact that she was in control and was choosing not to touch him in any way, he liked the tension in the air, the physical closeness of her. He could feel her although she wasn't touching him, could smell her skin, could look down the black sheen of her corset, down the dark ribbons lacing her in, follow their path down to the small bow at the base of her spine, see her arse divided by the tiny strip of black silk running between her cheeks.

They stayed in that position for what seemed like an hour but also a split second just looking at each other with her breath hot on his cock then suddenly she stood up and without a backward glance walked back into the kitchen and around the door out of view. He was aware that his breathing was now coming faster and more ragged, his cock felt like it was straining to reach her in the other room, he could hear her taking a pan from the cupboard and setting it on the cooker. She returned to the sink and picked up the vegetables she had chopped then walked back to the cooker, it was agony not being able to see her, his ears sensitive to every sound she made, her heels on the tiles, the faint rustle of her stockings, there was a pause then the sound of a brush being stroked through her hair; she was tying it up before she began cooking. He heard her pick up a plate and a sudden fierce sizzling from behind the door; stir fry. After a few minutes the spitting sound lessened and he could hear only the scrape of a spatula in the pan, followed by a brief hush, as she transferred the food to a bowl. Her shoes echoed on the hard floor again as she came back to the doorway holding a large glass bowl filled with Chinese in one hand and a bottle of Becks in the other, she walked back towards him and knelt down, her hair tied up with a piece of black silk, stray ends floating lose about her shoulders. Putting the bottle on the floor beside his feet, she stirred the vegetables briefly before skewering a piece of chicken, some bean-sprouts and mange-tout on the fork and raising it to his mouth.

He looked at her in disbelief, she actually expected him to eat! Sitting in their lounge, naked and tied to a chair, his cock practically poking him in the stomach. All he wanted her to do was sit on his lap and fuck him, but he opened his mouth like a well-behaved toddler and pulled the food into his mouth. It was good, flavoured with plenty of ginger and garlic, just how he liked it, after a couple of mouthfuls she put the fork in the bowl and reached to hold the bottle to his lips, the ice cold beer fizzing in his mouth, running cold down his throat cooling the heat from the five-spice seasoning. They continued like this for some time, alternating the hot, spicy food with icy liquid until he had consumed both, the whole time her eyes hardly left his looking into him as if she could read his soul.

When the bowl was cleaned and the bottle emptied she stood slowly and took them both into the kitchen and began to run water into the sink and to wash the dishes. She was back in the same position again, near yet far, her naked arse, legs sheathed in black silk, tits sitting creamy white above the harsh black confines of her corset, the only difference was her neck and shoulders were no longer covered by her hair, he could see more of her skin, the contrast between the smooth creamy softness and silky black restraints made him groan aloud again, half pleasure, half pain. She turned her head marginally to the left and watched him from the corner of her eyes, smiling slightly as she regarded his hard on and his chest moving with his deep uneven breathing.

As soon as the water had drained from the sink she dried her hands and walked towards him, grinning broadly now. She stood before him, rested one hand lightly on his shoulder, leaned into him and kissed him softly on the lips.

He responded immediately stretching up to kiss her harder, pulling the scarves around his wrists painfully tight for the first time, when she stopped and took a step back to look at him he breathed a long breath out and moaned.

Suddenly she seemed to change to a higher gear and reaching down slid her thong off in one smooth swift motion, stepped out of it and sat across his lap, her breasts flattened to his chest, his cock cocooned between their stomachs. Her left hand reached around behind his head to caress his neck, her right hand reaching down to his balls shifting her weight back slightly to give her room, her lips on his neck and ears. He groaned from her touch and buried his face in her hair breathing in her perfume in deep gulps. She raised herself up till the tip of his cock touched her cunt and slowly lowered herself onto him, her muscles holding him tight inside her. She moved closer to him once more and arched her back moving herself along his length her pelvis rocking so he was alternately deep within her and almost slipping out, keeping the rhythm steady, the pace increasing with his desire. He couldn't stand not being able to touch her and begged her to undo the scarves around his wrists; she leant forward and pulled them off still moving on him the whole time.

When his hands were free he reached up to her arse and began to untie the ribbons at the bottom of her corset, she increased the pace further till he gave up and realised that he wouldn't get it undone before he came, grasped her arse in his hands and pulled her harder onto him making her gasp and he thrust deep inside her. She moved her head to kiss him fiercely on the lips and closed her eyes, her head thrown back as she began to come, moaning deeply her chest heaving above the black silk, his head burying in her cleavage licking her creamy flesh as he came long and loud inside her.