Yes Again 1

Returning after a long break from this site- so many stories seem overlong- here is my try at brevity. Let me know if you want some more.

*****

The wait in front of his door seemed endless. Finally it swung open as if it had never been locked and she could see the room within. She stepped in, looking for him without luck. The room was cooler than outside and dim after the intense sun.

As her eyes adjusted she felt him move behind her, taking the large shoulder bag from her and taking hold of her head, stopping the turn already underway. "Not yet, beautiful, there will be time later," his voice was a throaty murmur.

A blue band was pulled down over her eyes. "Don't speak, just do as I say, please." The 'please' was not a request, she could tell. She accepted the darkness as she accepted his control, the old pattern was back in place and she drew a deep breath of anticipation. She lifted her left foot in response to his touch, felt the shoe removed, then repeated on the right. Her foot tingled from his light incidental stroke.

"Step forward and up, please." She longed to see him and touch him, yet gave him her silence and obeyed. There was a low, wide stool that must have been in the centre of the floor, which raised her a little. His hand guided her elbow firmly, then nudged her legs apart, to the ends of the stool, with a small extra stroke on each calf. She shivered slightly as her anticipation grew. All her long journey had been foreplay as she followed his guide, stage by stage.

She felt his breath on her shoulder as he moved around her. She loved his size and knew he wanted full access to her body by raising her thus. His fingers touched her scalp and stroked down through her hair, lifting it over the band around her eyes. He knew she loved this sensation. His hands stroked down the sides of her neck, then out along the top of each shoulder, over the light fabric of the dress, then back to her skin on each arm. He traced down the outside of each arm and off at the end of her longest finger- she craved his touch the moment it stopped.

His breath stirred her hair from behind as he touched the skin of her shoulders, then traced down the scooped back of the dress, slipping a little on the sweat there. He licked a drop at the lowest point and sighed as she quivered. He had written 'a dress with a back low enough that any man knows you cannot be wearing a bra beneath'. She has shopped for days to find this, and is now glad he approves.

He raises her arms and puts her hands together on her head. He strokes quite firmly down her sides, the light material snagging slightly as he does it. From behind he reaches around to trace the line of her pelvis forward and down with both hands again-stopping before he reaches her mound, which is denied. He walks in front of her, she feels his breath hot on her neck and chest. The dress is not so low at the front but is so light she feels it between her breasts.

He presses his whole body to her, gathering her in his arms and squeezing firmly. He is naked which excites her, her breasts are tightly compressed as he grasps the cheeks of her rear, then lifts the hem and checks beneath. Her bum is bare but he is probing the crease to check the plug is there. He taps firmly on it, then caresses her bottom. She senses he is smiling at her obedience. To wear the thing was less challenging than entering the store to buy it back home. ('You will be wanting a good lubricant with that one, dear' from the woman behind the counter. She paid for both and left in a blushing rush)

He gripped the hem of the flimsy dress and swiftly pulled it over her head, making her unclasp her hands suddenly. The motion made a tiny gap at one side of the blindfold- she said nothing but loved the sliver of view, down to his flat belly. He stepped back and knelt, his hands gripped each breast and touched the tight rubber band on their nipples-which ached and tightened as they swelled. She had taken several attempts to fit them at the airport washroom on her arrival- it was hard to do it herself, he always did it with no apparent effort.

He stroked downwards to her belly, crouching to look closely, she mentally checked his list- plucked hairless (but for a pointer) and with three clothes pegs on each outer lip. This had been the hardest instruction to follow, the airport washroom was crowded and others were waiting in line while she fitted each one in place and tucked her knickers in her handbag.

She was glad she had brought spare pegs as one slipped off in the subway concourse as she walked to her train. She could pretend to have no connection with the bright coloured thing that had clearly fallen from under her dress. She had stopped the lift between floors to replace it at his building. The burning had remained throughout her journey.

Also difficult was sitting as instructed on the train. The seats were textured stainless steel- to lift her skirt to sit bare skin to seat was hard enough, but to avoid an audible click as she sat was terrifying. As it was the workmen, mothers and office girls barely glanced at her odd behaviour, then went back to their phones. She could not forget and desperately longed for it to be over.

He traced the edges of her narrow line of pubic hair with his finger tip. The sensitive skin thrilled to the feeling- then he tugged lightly on each peg which made her groan, between pain, tension and terrible joy.

"You have prepared well, my beauty," and he kissed her belly and breasts as he stood. He pulled her hand down and placed it on his hard cock. "Give me your first word, please, but not that other one-you know your rules".

"Yesss..." she breathed low but clearly.

He leaned his shoulder to her belly and pulled her until she was over him, then he carried her easily out of the room to the bed.