Almost Alone

He quietly opened her back door, wine and roses in hand. He was supposed to be out of town; business meeting. When his agent had called an hour ago to tell him that it had been postponed, he had immediately thought only one thing – thank God. He had been close to bursting for the last 5 or 6 hours, since he had gotten off of the phone with her.

"Philadelphia, huh?" she'd asked. "Well, that should be fun." There was something in her voice, something that he recognized immediately and something that made him hard instantly. Before he could reply, she continued.

"Of course, if you're in Philadelphia, and I am here, there's no way in the world I can do the things I have been thinking of doing to you all day…I'm horny baby…" Her disappointed voice trailed off.

He chuckled, "You're always horny. I'll be back tomorrow night, love."

She was laughing, too, because it was quite true. She was always horny. But, only for him. God, the things he did to her…

"Okay, baby. You have fun and be careful. Think of me. Think of me kissing your neck, and down you chest, unzipping your pants, taking you in my hand…"

"Goodbye, love," he said, thinking of exactly what she'd suggested, unable to resist.

He shook himself from the memory, excited to be here, to sate her perpetual lust, if only for a few hours. Only to sate it again. As he walked through the kitchen, he heard a small sound coming from the hall. The very familiar sound of her moan, and it was coming from her open bedroom door.

He couldn't believe his ears. What the hell was going on here? Sitting the wine and flowers quietly on the counter, and creeping down the hall, he could only wonder what he was about to walk in on. My God, he had only been away for a few hours. How could she? Who was she with? How long had it been going on? The thoughts were racing through his mind as he silently stepped into the doorway. She had been so convincing on the phone, wanting him to stay. The devious bitch…

His thoughts came to an abrupt halt the moment he stepped into the doorway.

There she lay in the middle of the bed, room lit by several well-placed candles, open bottle of massage oil and a nearly empty wine glass on the nightstand. Alone. Naked. Unaware of her audience.

He didn't know what to do. He shouldn't be watching her, not without her knowledge. This he knew. However, he didn't possess enough willpower to interrupt this glorious display.

Her right hand was kneading her right breast, the thumbnail flicking her nipple, while her other hand was trailing its way down her stomach. He sucked in a breath as it found its way between her legs. It was blatantly obvious that she had done this many times before. Expertly, she opened her lips with her ring and forefingers while massaging her clit with her middle.

She moaned, and arched her back, her fingers not stopping, not slowing their erotic massage. Her right hand had abandoned her breast as she moved it downward.

She moved it slowly, deliberately; apparently relishing the touch on her oiled skin. Her hips lifted, allowing her to slide her finger into her hot, wet, pussy. She slid it in slowly, while the fingers of her other hand began to rub her clit faster.

Her control was ebbing, and she began sliding first one and then two fingers in and out rapidly, her hips gyrating to meet her pace. Her skin was glistening with a thin sheen of sweat, and he knew that she was close. He could see the wetness on her fingers as she fucked them, and he wanted nothing more than to bury himself inside of her.

Suddenly, her rhythm began to slow, become once again very controlled. He watched her struggle for control, and realized that she was teasing herself. She had brought herself to the brink, only to pull back at the last minute. Cloaked in the shadow of her doorway, he struggled to contain his ragged breath.

She had removed her fingers from her pussy, but continued to slowly massage her clit. Her right hand once again moved toward her tit, this time her left. She cupped it, pinching her nipple between her thumb and forefinger, while at the same time lightly pinching her clit and moaning loudly.

Her movements suddenly became frantic and erratic. Once again, she began fucking the fingers of her right hand while massaging her clit with her left. Her back was arching wildly, but she did not stop. Her fingers slid in and out of her pussy, and she was so wet that he could see the dampness on the sheets. The finger rubbing her clit was sliding over it; over and over and over.

She could feel herself getting hot, and hotter still. Her breathing was shallow, and she couldn't stop now if she wanted to. The pressure building between her legs; in the pit of her stomach, was close to boiling over. Her legs closed reflexively around her hands, but still she did not ease her rhythm. She was so close, so close…

Her orgasm was explosive. He back arched, and she yelled out into the darkness. She could feel her pussy contracting around her fingers, again and again.

"Sweetheart…My God…" a deep voice reverberated through the silence. He had been afraid to speak, not wanting to frighten her; not really having an explanation for his presence. He braced himself for her questions, her anger for not revealing himself sooner. The last thing he expected was the impish smile and breathless giggle that followed.

"Hey, baby." Her voice was a ragged whisper. "I was wondering if you were going to join me, or just stand in the doorway all night."

He couldn't believe it. She had known he was there the whole time. And she had given him the show of a lifetime. God, he was going to fuck her dirty little brains out…

He was tearing at his clothes as he walked across the space between the doorway and the bed, and was down to his boxers by the time he reached her. She gleamed with sweat and oil, her arms were outstretched and she was still chuckling at her little game. He was so hard and hot from the mere sight of her coupled with the memory of what he had watched that he could think of nothing beyond burying himself inside of her.

She knew his thoughts, and wasted no time ridding him of the last, offending article of clothing. She took him in her hand, intending to give him a blow job that he would never forget; but he stopped her. His hand wrapped around her wrist, pulling her hand from his cock before shoving her roughly onto her back.

"You little tease!" His voice was sharp, "You are going to get it now…" his voice trailed off as he began digging in her nightstand drawer. It didn't take him long to find what he was looking for.

When she saw him pull the silk scarves from the drawer, her pulse quickened. Before she had time to react, He was securing her wrists to the slatted headboard; a piece of furniture that they had chosen together purely for its "functional design." Within less than a minute, she was securely tethered. Mere seconds later he had tied the second scarf around her head, completely blinding her.

Anticipating his hands, his mouth, on her skin, she lay tense for a moment. Nothing. "Baby," she began, voice trailing as she realized that she could not hear his breath. She couldn't fucking believe it. Where had he gone? Momentarily panicking, she realized that she couldn't move or see, and that she was alone. And naked. She had begun to struggle slightly against her restraints when she heard him chuckle.

"Miss me, sweetheart?" His voice was mocking, "I didn't go far."

She heard him sit something on the nightstand, and felt his weight on the end of the bed. Suddenly, he was pushing her knees apart, and she felt herself getting wet again. She knew that he was close to exploding from her little show, and she knew that he wouldn't have the self-control to resist for long. Once again, she anticipated his touch on her fiery skin, his hands hot and mouth hotter; her breathing already becoming shallow. His finger began to trail the inside of her thigh, and abruptly stopped. She opened her mouth to protest, when suddenly she felt the cold wetness of an ice cube take over where his finger had left off. The sensation caused her to suck in her breath.

He trailed the ice cube along the inside of her thigh, following its path with his mouth, kissing and nibbling a trail of pure heat behind the frigid cold. The alternating sensations were driving her wild, and he knew it. As the heat of her skin quickly melted the ice, he reached for more, continuing the torture. As he worked the trail higher up her thigh, approaching her pussy, he lifted the melting cube and watched it drip onto her. He leaned forward, as if to follow the cold water with his mouth. He was close enough that she could feel his breath, ragged and shallow, and she lifted her hips to meet him. He pulled back at the last moment, chuckling.

Her disappointed groan quickly filled the room, "Nooo. Baby, please…"

He did not respond, but merely continued his icy navigation of her body. The trail had reached her navel, and he teased; drawing several cold circles and following them with his tongue, before moving upward further.

When he reached her tits, he resisted the urge to go straight to her already taut nipples, and once again traced circle after circle with the ice; following them with his mouth, nibbling the sensitive flesh. When he finally touched the ice to her hot, strained nipples, she moaned and arched up to meet his mouth.

Once again, he pulled away.

She didn't know where he had found this reserve of restraint. She could feel him hot and hard against her thigh, and she knew that he had to be close to exploding. She was so wet, so close, so hot that she wondered if she would survive when he finally gave in. The heat of his mouth following the cold of the ice was had been driving her wild.

He was watching her writhe, and it was doing things to him he had never before thought possible. He was so hard, wanted her so badly, that it took everything inside him to keep from just burying himself inside her; from ending the exquisite torture that was consuming both of them. He took a steadying breath, and began kissing her neck, nibbling on her collar bone, on her ear. She was grinding herself urgently against his hip. He could feel her, hot and wet against, his skin. He could hear her desperate moans and ragged breath. She was begging into his ear, "Oh my god, please. Please, now…"

He began kissing a languid trail downward, not heading her pleas. The torturous little wench. When he once again recalled how he had found her this evening, that she had been deliberately taunting him, and his resolve was momentarily restored. He slowed his mouths descent, down her neck, nibbling her collar bone, tongue tracing a trail around her hard nipples before taking each one in his mouth. His hand had found her pussy, and he was lightly touching her. Just enough to make her beg for more.

She was madly arching to meet his hand, wanting only to feel him inside of her. Now. She begged, her voice a breathlessly harsh whisper. "Please…I want to feel you inside me…God, please fuck me already, love. Please…"

He continued to tease her with his hand, to kiss a trail downward, not heading her urgent whisper. When his mouth finally reached its destination, she was quivering. He teased her with his breath, getting so close that she could feel the heat of his mouth, but still not touching her skin. She was arching to meet his hand, to meet his mouth, but he stayed just beyond her reach. He could see her straining against the scarves, could feel the desperation.

Without warning, he slid a finger into her hot, wet pussy, while lifting her to his mouth. She was beyond ready, moaning a loud "Yes."

His pace had gone from controlled to one that matched hers in desperation. He was fucking her fast and hard with his fingers, while at the same time sucking and lightly nipping her clit. She was so wet, so hot; beyond anything he had ever felt before.

Her breathing was ragged and uneven and her moans were filling the room. He felt her begin to tense, and at once moved to thrust himself into her, wanting to feel her tighten around him as she came.

As he buried himself inside of her, he removed the restraints and blindfold. In the back of her mind, she realized that she could have easily freed herself at any time, had she truly wanted to. She immediately pulled him toward her with one hand, kissing him deeply on the mouth, tasting herself on him; something that always drove her wild. Her other hand was cupping his ass, pulling him deeper with each thrust, her nails digging into his skin.

With each thrust, each arch of her back, he was being pulled deeper into her than he had imagined possible. She was so, so wet. And getting wetter. She was beyond any control now, moaning his name, begging him not to stop. And he couldn't have stopped if he'd tried. He could feel her begin to tighten around him, again and again. She yelled out his name, almost sobbing it, as she came harder than she could ever doing remember.

He felt her orgasm peak, and as she tightened around him over and over again, he lost control, his yell mingling with hers as he came.

To his surprise, he felt her begin to orgasm again, harder than the first time. He looked at her face, their eyes meeting for a split second, before hers went vague as she again lost all control, her moans filling the room once more.

Minutes later, they both lay still; covered in a sheen of sweat, their breathing shallow and uneven. Their limbs still tangled, his head on her chest, her fingers tangled in his hair. Neither of them spoke a word – and no words were needed. He could think of no moment more perfect, his thoughts were drifting…

"Baby," her voice broke through his revere.

He looked up at her, ready to speak words of undying devotion, love eternal…when her next words caused him to stop abruptly.

"I'm horny."