She lay naked in the dark waiting for him. A cool breeze moved through the room from the open window. It swirled about in the darkness and found its way to her body where it danced lightly across the surface of her skin and left tiny goose bumps in its wake. Her nipples rose in response and stiffened. She did not know when he would arrive, only that she would be ready when he did. She was, in fact, ready now. She wanted him to enter the room and take her. Her legs were parted and she could feel the moisture between them. She longed for him to fill her up there. Restlessly, she shifted her hips on the bed. If only she could touch herself, she thought. But the silk bindings held her wrists and ankles firmly in their grasp.
He had done this to her before. She loved it and she hated it. He would tie her to the bed and then leave her alone in the dark. She never knew how long he would be gone but as time passed the anticipation would take hold of her and her mind would fill with the possibilities. Would he return alone? Would someone be with him? Another man? Another woman? Each time it was different but, always, by the time he returned she was ready for anything and everything. Her imagination would shift into overdrive as she lay in the dark and memories and fantasies would weave their spell over her until she was fairly panting for release.
She knew that was the objective for him. He wanted her to become aroused just by the anticipation. He wanted her imagination to take over. He wanted the memories and the fantasies to possess her. She often wondered if he was somewhere watching her. The thought aroused her even more. The excitement of his eyes on her was only exceeded by that of his hands on her. Sometimes all he had to do was look at her and she was seduced.
She could not explain the power he had over her; did not even understand it herself. All she could do was feel it . . . and want it. Yes, she admitted to herself. She wanted it. It was why he could seduce her with his eyes. It was why she allowed him to tie her this way. He had never forced himself on her. That, she knew, was not his way. She gave herself willing and by letting him possess her she freed herself to go where he would take her.
Again the breeze found its way in through the window and moved the sheer drapes so that a splash of moonlight fell across her body and pooled in the shadows on her stomach. Looking down her body to where the light trailed off between her legs, she felt again the wetness that was growing there. It had become so copious that it had begun to drip down to the sheets beneath her ass. Oh how she wanted his tongue there to lick it up. She could practically feel the tip of it sliding through her wetness and playing at the edges of her pussy. A soft moan escaped her lips and she strained against her bindings again. Memories washed over her again. She remembered the time he had returned with the other woman. She had never been with another woman before but the feel of her soft lips and skin had been so exquisite and when the woman had kissed her way between her legs and began to lick her clit she had given herself over to the pleasure and screamed as the orgasm had overtaken her. She had become so aroused that when the other woman had moved over her face she had eagerly reached out with her own tongue to taste the sweetness there. When the woman had screamed and bucked her hips in response to the ministrations of her tongue she had felt a rush of power that was quickly engulfed by her own cry of pleasure when she felt him slide into her. Her muffled screams had reverberated against the other woman’s pussy as he emptied himself into her.
She shifted her hips again and another memory took its place in the forefront of her consciousness. It was a memory of the night he had returned with another man. It had long been a fantasy of hers to have two men touching and kissing her, exciting her. But she had never imagined just how delicious it would actually be. They had taken their time arousing her. Soft kisses, firm but gentle caresses, fingers and tongues probing her tenderly in all her most secret places. He had blindfolded her that night so she could not tell which one of them was doing what. The not knowing had only heightened the intensity of the experience. She had tried to detect differences. Her lips had searched for signs of familiarity in their kisses; her tongue had strained for distinctions in taste when each cock had slid into her mouth. But she had realized that as her passion had grown that she could not tell any differences. Her lust had rendered her incapable of discernment and she found that did not even care. After a while all that had mattered was what she was feeling in her nipples and in her pussy and in her ass as fingers and tongues had probed her even there. By the time they had mounted her so that she had one cock in her mouth and one in her pussy it had become enough that they were there and with her body and with her mouth she had sucked the orgasms out of each of them so that they could crash into and intermingle and become entangled with hers, which came one after the other until she could barely breathe.
The memories enveloped her and the wet spot on the bed grew steadily larger. Now the breezes from the window had found it and blew softly across it as if trying to excite her even further with her own moisture. God, she wished her would return. Then, as if in answer to her thought, a door opened. Light from beyond the door washed into the room. She turned to look but the person’s face was still in shadow. Was it him? Who was it? She could not tell for sure. The figure moved and the door closed and the darkness chased the light from the room once again. She strained to see but the brief flash of light had destroyed her night vision and she could not tell where the person was.
