He's tied up and delicious, all four limbs spread out on the white sheets in a picture of masculinity, his breaths equal and even so his chest fell in and out, bit by bit deliberately slow.
I run my hands down his firm stomach. The ragged breath he takes is jagged, the first sign of nerves he's shown since I suggested this. His demeanour is still cocky, but here's something else now. I run my hand up again, all the way up to the base of his throat, then I sit back on my haunches and take a moment to just look.
He's a beautiful man. I've always known that. But this here, half strong and half vulnerable. There's something being here with him like this that makes my mouth water for more.
The shirt I'm wearing pulls at my nipples as I pull it up and off. I think of speaking, he likes it when I speak to him in bed, but this here is about me and something about speaking makes me feel like I'm spoiling the mood.
I don't want that today. I don't want to feel uncomfortable and inexperienced here. Today, I want our bodies to speak to each other. No words but the ones our bodies say to each other.
His breathing has eased up from the deliberateness of before. His face is unlined. He's getting calmer now.
I move to kiss his face. I kiss his cheek, I let my breath ghost over his eyes, lay a kiss on his forehead. There's always something about this. My man. My baby. I want to tell him that, that he's mine and I'm his fully and wholly.
But I don't speak. I let my breath ghost over his ear. He turns his face to me in a simple request. I oblige, letting his mouth meet mine. He controls the pace of the kiss, an easy meeting of mouths before he pulls away and nestles into the pillows around his head, eyes still shut.
"You're going awfully slow," he says, voice husky, "You know you can go faster don't you? Or do you want something else?"
I hesitate, hands hovering over his face again.
He turns his head and kisses the palm of my hand.
"This doesn't work unless you say what you want, baby,"
"Blindfolds," I say and let it sit in the air. Quiet and still.
"You want?"
"I want," I say. He thinks about it. It's relieving that he does think about it,
"We can try a blindfold," he says and watches as I stand and go to the ties that I used on his hands and legs. I choose a blue one and go back to bed. I straddle his hips this time.
"You sure?" I ask again
"I'm sure," he says. I place it over his eyes, prompt him to lift his head and tie it behind his head.
He settles back down in the pillow, still a picture. Next time I'll ask if I can take a picture. Now though...
"I thought this would be easier," I say.
"It's what you want. Take your time. We're not in a hurry," he says
I think that maybe we should be. It would feel less like playing pretend.
I lay my head down, let my breath ghost over his centre, ghost a kiss over the trail that leads down all the way to his dick, then back up. He lets out a moan and strains upwards.
I change direction and go up again. My lips lick at his nipple. I take the other in my hands and roll it between my fingers. There's a sigh from above me. I roll my tongue as I roll his other nipple in my fingers harder.
I pull off and look at him. His eyes are closed, his breath hitching and his dick leaking onto his belly.
This, this is exactly what I wanted to see when I asked if he would mind being tied up. Exactly like this.
