The Sensualist

She couldn't help the shiver that coursed through her as she watched him glide a bitten strawberry over her left nipple, bring it to his mouth, lick it, and repeat the glide around her right nipple.

She tried to arch her back and press her breasts harder against his hand, but the ropes circling her prevented any movement. Just moments before, she'd tested the ropes and knots around her wrists when, with a smile on his lips, he'd rubbed the thick enpurpled head of his cock over her fingers.

She wanted to grab it, hell, she'd wanted to take hold of it and pull it up to her mouth for a kiss, a lick, to suck it. But her wrists were tied firmly with only enough slack not to cut off the blood circulation.

She lay on her back on a raised tabletop and her eyes watched his every movement. Like a cougar or panther, he paced around her naked body and then would suddenly take her jaw in a strong hand and kiss her mouth, his tongue probing and dancing on hers.

Time and again, the goosebumps would rise on her skin as he toyed with her. He seemed to have an endless variety of kisses, touches, rough caresses, suckings and licks that he played on her body like a master musician or sculptor.

Now raising the remains of the dripping strawberry, he brushed it across her lips and licked the juice from them. As his tongue moved up to trace the contours of her left ear, his other hand, light as a feather, traced a crooked line down her belly until his fingers settled just above her pussy.

He leaned his head closer and swept the flat of his tongue over her already swollen clit and then blew gently at the wetness.

Her hips rose, wanting to grind on his mouth, but he pulled away. She felt her own wetness flow down from her pussy and seep through the line dividing her buttocks. She'd never been so wet before nor so excited at her own sexual frustration.

Again, she felt the velvet caress of the tip of his tongue across her clitoris and couldn't help the low moan that escaped her mouth. She felt she couldn't stand much more of the intoxicating torment and squirmed in the ropes.

In an instant, she felt his warm breath at her right ear, heard his low raspy whisper.

"Ready to cum already, my lovely? But it's only been thirty minutes."

"Please," she murmured. It seemed like hours since he'd deftly tied her to the tabletop.

"Say it again. For me," he said, stepping back.

Her lips slackly opened to form the word and felt the head of his cock brush over her lips.

The "Please" turned into a groan as she snaked her tongue out to taste him. The head felt so smooth and hard on her tongue. She sucked at the slit on the very tip and felt a droplet of pre-cum. It made her entire body shudder to know she'd excited him.

"Please," she repeated, feeling the cockhead throb against her lips as she spoke. He smiled down at her, looking deeply into her eyes, and let her tongue wash around his cock for a long moment before stepping backward.

Her groan was louder this time.

She watched him walk down toward where her ankles were tied and felt his fingers untying the ropes. Then she gasped as he gracefully climbed up on the tabletop, reaching down to grab her thighs and lift them.

Without a word, he aimed his cock at her wet and slightly gaping pussy lips and drove it deeply inside her. She felt like he'd stabbed her with a shaft of molten metal or lava. She bucked against him and he went deeper.

He began a rhythm of five deep thrusts, all the way down to his balls, then five short strokes with just the thick head entering her. Her hips, now held firmly in his hands, spasmed and thrashed, trying to match his movements.

"Is it good?" his voice rumbled down at her. "Is it what you want?"

Her head kept twisting from side to side. "Yes. I want it."

"Tell me what you want."

"I want this!" she said louder.

"No. I want you to say the words."

She gnashed her teeth together and then cried out louder. "I want your cock fucking me."

"More," he urged, teasing the head of his cock over her clitoris.

"Oh, god," she cried out. "I want to...I want to come on your cock. Now!"

"Good," he replied, and began a faster, harder rhythm, plunging deep into her with every stroke.

She heard herself start an almost incoherent chant "Fuck me, please, I need to cum now. Please."

He quickened the pace of his strokes as his thumb twitched rapidly on her clitoris, staccato tappings and swirling circles.

"Oh fuckohfuck," she babbled.

And then she felt the spasms take control of her body; her pussy sucked frantically at him, drool leaked from her gaping mouth, and her climax erupted through her as if she'd been struck by lightning and thrown beneath a gushing waterfall at the same time.

Abruptly, he stopped his cock strokes, but still gently nudging her clitoris with his thumb.

"Oh," he whispered at her ear. "I didn't give you permission to cum yet, did I? We'll have to start over again."

She trembled, loudly sighed, and sank back against the tabletop.

He kissed her mouth roughly and nuzzled her cheek. "Let's begin again," he whispered.