The Forge 3

I heard the clanking coming from the back of the house. The sharp report of metal hitting metal, forcing it to take shape. I started walking to the source of the sound. To the forge, where you my lover practice your craft.

The forge area is open to keep it aerated as possible. The forge itself gives off a tremendous amount of heat. There are swords and various weapons hanging everywhere. A testament to my lover's skill. I favor the long sword, and I challenge you to make a perfect one for me.

You are tall. Your body is well formed from the exertion of manipulating metal daily. The muscles on your arms and back ripple with each strike. You favor wearing a ring in your ear. It is your own creation. I smile thinking you look a bit like a modern-day pirate.

You are heating the metal in the forge. Your back is to me, and I slip silently past you. I sit in a chair that I had previously brought to the forge to be able to watch you work. I like to spend time with you, just watching you form your creations.

The fire from the forge throws light on the front of your body, as you force the metal into the flames. Turning it so the heat is distributed evenly along the shaft. When you are satisfied, you turn around and places the red-hot metal against the anvil.

I realize that you aren't using the heavy steel rods that are used to shape the blade. This is thinner and finer. Far more delicate than a piece for a weapon. I watch in fascination as your rough hands become gentle, and coax the metal into loops and knots.

Thinking about those hands makes me long for you. My own fingers find their way to my clit. I sit, brushing my fingers along my slit. Mesmerized by your actions, and the light from the flames dancing across your body.

I see you smile, like you were just waiting for me to start. You inspect his creation before plunging it into the cool water to set it. The hiss of steam hits my ears, and I suck in a breath. There is a direct path from my ear to my puss, and it makes excited. I feel my wetness on my fingers.

You pull it up out of the water. My fingers come to my mouth, and I lick them; tasting myself. It arouses me as I watch the water dripping from your piece. You shake it off, and brings it close to me. "Do you know what this is," you ask.

"It is a cuff. The Celtic knot is beautiful," I reply. You smile at me. It is no secret that you enjoy it when I stroke your ego. You place it around my wrist. It locks in place. I can see that it was specifically made for me.

You go to his workbench. I see my cuff's mate, laying there. You pick it up and brings it back to me. You place it on my bare wrist. I hold them up; turning them to let the light play off them. They are exquisite. The knots intertwine with each other creating a loop.

"Undress." It is said gently, but I understand the command in your tone. I meet your eyes; their gaze holds mine as I take my clothes off. You, my lover, know my body better than any who came before you. I will not stand in shame in front of you.

"What are the loops for?" You smile wickedly, and my pirate fantasy is reinforced. You take hold of my wrist, and guide me to the anvil. You place his hands on my waist, and lifts me onto the anvil. It is large, and holds my weight easily. There is a D-ring at the bottom of it.

You reach above your head, to a chain that is threaded through a pulley. It has a hook on one end. The other has an O-ring with two smaller chains attached. Each smaller chain has a latch. I smile. I have a good idea of what you have in mind.

You attach each latch to the loop of my cuffs, tugging on them to make sure they hold. I relax my body, and you pull the chain taught. It pulls my arms into the air. I feel my pussy swell. I smell the scent of my wetness on the air.

I hear you behind me. I stand on the anvil relaxed, while you attach the chain to the D-ring. You come around to stand in front of me. Your nostrils flare, breathing my scent in deeply. Desire pools in your eyes, dark and heavy. It calls out to me, and my body responds.

You reach out a hand towards me, but stop. You look at your hand. It is covered in grime from soot and sweat mingling on your body. You walk away from me. You grab the soap from your workstation, and turn on the hose.

You watch me as you strip your clothes off. I sigh, testing my bonds. I hate seeing you naked, and not being able to do anything about it. You spray yourself down, and lather up. I watch that soap making its' way across your flesh, and I am envious of it.

You start rinsing off. The water and suds start sluicing off your body. Little droplets of water glisten all over you skin. I want to lick each one off, and savor the taste of your skin. I feel wetness coating my puss in answer to my desire.

You come back to me standing in between me and the forge. The heat from there makes short work of drying you off. You reach a hand out to me. This time you drag a finger through my slit, and up over my clit. You lift your finger up, and the light from the forge makes the wetness on it glisten.

I watch you taste me on your fingers. "Do you like that?" A growl is your only reply, but I have heard all that I need to know. I lean towards you. You place your hands behind me on my back. You kiss the soft sensitive side of my breast. Your goatee tickles, and I squirm away from you. Your hands hold me in place. Gently forcing me to accept your ministrations.

Metal is not the only thing that you know how to manipulate, and my body takes the shape of your will. Your gentle attention to my breasts make my nipples hard like pebbles. You take advantage of it; sucking on each one until each globe is heavy and achy.

I feel your hands stroking my back. Each caress causes my body to shiver and undulate towards you. Your touch brings out the wanton slut in me. I didn't understand how incomplete my pleasure was until I met you.

You place your lips on my collar bone. Your tongue drags a path of fire up to behind my ear. I tilt my head to the side, offering my submission. Anything to end this sweet torment. To be free of these chains, and able to wrap myself around you.

I hear you chuckle in my ear, and know that it is not over yet. Your hand comes to my throat guiding my face to yours. You trap my gaze before taking my mouth in a hard kiss. I feel your tongue demanding entrance. I open myself to you. Your possession is intoxicating, and I feel myself getting weak in the knees.

You break it off, and I feel bereft. I look at you, disappointed. You smile at me, and place a kiss on my forehead, then my chin. Trailing a path of butterfly kisses down my neck, chest, and navel; down to my clit. Lightning jumps from each one to the next, culminating in a shock to my senses at my clit.

Your hands move to my hips. I feel you holding me steady. Your tongue dives between my lips, and if not for the chain holding me up; I would tumble off the anvil. I steady myself, and widen my stance to accommodate you.

I feel my juices trickling down my thighs, but you are focused on tasting me. I push myself towards your mouth, and I am rewarded with a growl that reverberates through my body. I feel you push a finger inside of me. My muscles grab onto it, I tip my head back, and squeeze for all I am worth.

I feel your hand parting my lips further while you suck on my clit, and another finger invades me. I whimper with need. Your finger hook onto my pelvic bone, and I come all over your hand. I grind myself against you, and your whiskers further heighten my orgasm; driving me into another. When it subsides, I tug on my chain, and beg. "Please, Mo Ghrá, let me feel you inside me."

You look at my flushed face. Pleasure has left its mark. You take my weight with your one arm, and reach up; unlatching me with the other. I wrap my arms and legs around you. I can smell myself all over your beard. I bend my head to yours, and lick myself off you. The way I taste on you arouses me.

You take hold of my hips, and set me down onto my feet. I love the friction that is created as I slide down your body. Your hard cock is dragged up my body, and I feel your hands tighten.

You turn me around, and push me towards the anvil. I brace myself against it, and spread my legs wide enough to open myself to your gaze. I know that I am wet, dripping, and ready.

You step up behind me, and I feel your hand tangle itself in my hair. I let my head follow your hand, and arch my back. It pushes my hips, puss, and ass out towards you. I feel your head brush against my clit, and I shiver in anticipation.

You slip your head into my entrance, then your hand wraps itself around my throat. You guide me back against you. Slowly pushing your way in until you are balls deep. I can't help myself. I moan deep and loud, it is so delicious. You give my walls time to adjust to you.

When you are satisfied that I am fit around you like a glove, you stroke me deeply. Your rhythm makes me squirm and tighten each time I feel your balls touch my clit. My abdomen starts to spam, and you push faster. I slam myself back against you, and I feel your cock engorge itself inside of me. Your load explodes inside of me, and I feel the hot creaminess seep out of me. My own orgasm follows as I am impaled on you, and I milk you for all I am worth.

I push myself up from the anvil, gasping for air. You hold me against you, and let me catch my breath. When I am breathing normally, you tilt my head up and capture my lips. You convey your pleasure to me with your kiss, and I am satisfied.