I held my lover's hand under the soft light of my grandmother's lamp, the only light in the room. He was dressed to please, with belly full of chicken soup and pumpkin pie. And maple glaze.
He wore a long sleeved white cotton shirt unbuttoned. He wore it untucked from crotchless shorts. His eyes were full of adoration. The credits rolled on the movie; he gave my hand a squeeze.
I stretched out my long leg clad in lace stockings to play at the peak of his cock. "Do you remember our safe word?" I asked.
"Octopus," he said. His cock twitched to full mast.
"Mine is the same," I said. I knew he could hear the way my breath got heavy and my voice got thin at this time of night. I stood up to get the necessaries from my closet. Before I went into my room, I looked back and said, "Kneel."
---
I returned with fine ropes of blue and gold in hand. His head was bowed until the moment my hand graced his hair. I knelt on the floor with him and lifted his chin to kiss his lips.
"Goddess..." he breathed.
I reached to the front zipper on my translucent, golden dress. "With this kiss, I grant you the power to bind me."
I shrugged out of the sleeves, baring myself to him and crossing my arms. His hand touched my waist and guided me to the couch again. The soft plush seemed to mold under my weight as he took the ropes and did his work diligently. "You are so good at this," I told my supplicant. He blushed as if it were warm honey dripping from my tongue instead of simple praise.
His instructions were few, only asserting himself to give a few pointers. "Relax...lift your arms like so." His hands were firm, and my skin leapt with every brush of texture from the hair on his arms.
His veins pulsed. His muscles were toned. I felt my strength diminish as he wrapped the ropes around me in embrace.
"Very good, slave," I said soothingly. "You've made your Mistress very pleased. Now take your ropes and create a harness." I paused, searching for the name of it...
"The same one you showed me at Virginia Beach," I finished with a smile. He knew the one I meant. He was the rigger after all. He had been for years before me.
"It would be my delight to take you back to that place," he whispered, lifting me up from the back and crossing the ropes close against my breasts. His words seemed to entrance me: "Back to the sound of waves crashing on the lighthouse bank and those thunderstorms in the distance..."
He kissed my collarbone. Down to my narrow cleavage, and sucking on the underside of my tit. I strained my arms to get at his hair and growled, "That's not the right place."
"Oh you know what I want," he said, and when I nodded, he licked and suckled my nipples.
"This is foreplay," I said when he had taken me as high as I could bear. He sucked, not wanting to go.
"Take my legs and spread them." I ordered, making my voice noble and resolute. "Latch my feet to the rings at the foot of the couch."
He was on top of me now, and I could feel my lover's arousal as he kissed my stomach and reached under my skirt to trace up the side of my leg. He chuckled as he pulled down my stockings and with his other hand roughly massaged my breast.
"You brat," I said.
"Be quiet, whore."
