We arrived back at home, quite content from a lovely evening on the town. It was Date Night, and naturally we were coming home to finish the evening properly. I kissed my wife and pointed to the bedroom. She smiled coquettishly and turned, walking into the darkened room with an exaggerated sway of her hips. I watched her disappear through the doorway, then went to the kitchen, selecting a bottle of honey and a can of aerosol whipped cream. I turned off the light and followed.
My wife was standing in the middle of the room with the overhead lights out, facing me with a seductive look in her eye. But I had plans for this evening, so, ignoring her, I walked past her to the head of the bed, placing the honey and whipped cream on the nightstand. I turned off the light in the closet, which we leave on when we're out. In the darkness, I walked to the window and opened the blinds, allowing moonlight to filter into the room.
She had turned to face me and I motioned with my hand for her to turn back around. She did so, but her eyes lingered petulantly in a half-smile. Returning to the nightstand, I opened our special drawer and pulled out the long blindfold. Quietly, I walked up behind her and quickly wrapped the silk around her eyes, tying it securely over her beautiful black hair.
My eyes wandered down her lithe frame, admiring her slim curves and the way her shimmering black dress hugged her perfect behind. The urge to grab her and ravish her rose like a tempest in my loins; her body could drive me wild in a heartbeat. But tonight was about restraint and control--both over myself and over her--so I allowed the reckless desire to spill through my body and out into the darkened room. Calm once more, I gently stepped out of my shoes, then leaned down and threw them loudly against the wall by the closet. The jarring noise made her jump, but she did not look over and I heard her exhale loudly from the sudden excitement.
Barefoot I stepped around her, remaining as close as possible without touching her. I breathed with slight exaggeration to impart my proximity and movements. Standing before my beautiful wife, my eyes took in her elegant neck and shoulder, the lovely mounds of her breasts, the hint of her leg through the slit in the dress. This time I focused my rising urges into delicate movements as I methodically removed her bracelet, necklace, and earrings. I avoided touching her as much as possible, moving around her still frame to reach the small catches and backings. I backed away from her to the dresser, upon which I placed the jewelry piece by piece, the metal-on-mahogany ticking through the room.
I undressed, not bothering to hide the sound of my belt or the rustle of my shirt and pants as they fell to the floor. I paused when I got to my underwear, debating nudity or restraint. Remembering my original intent and the difficulty I would face in holding my naked self in check when her nude form lay before my, I dropped my hands and faced her.
She radiated feminine sexuality from across the room: her backside was more prominently illuminated by the window, but the mirror on the far wall cast just enough light on her front to glitteringly reflect the outline of her breasts as they rose and fell with her breathing. Still, there was much to do before I would enjoy the pleasures of her body.
The carpet muffled my soft footsteps as I slipped past her to the bed. Taking the comforter and sheets in hand, I violently yanked them off to the side, throwing them just behind her. The passing wind ruffled her hair and she rocked forward slightly in surprise, but quickly righted herself.
The cleared bed revealed my intentions, though she could not see it: straps criss-crossed the memory foam mattress in an X, awaiting a victim like a spiderweb. I untied the square knot in the middle, pulling back each strap to its respective corner.
Stealthily I walked up behind my wife, breathing slowly through my mouth. I waited a full minute, enjoying the tease and savoring the self-denial. Finally I leaned in and deeply inhaled the scent of her hair while simultaneously releasing the knot of her halter. The form-fitting dress clung to her body, but the long strings dangled down her back as I leaned around and exhaled down the side of her neck and shoulder. She gasped and turned her head toward me. Quickly I backed off, stepping around to her other side.
Before she could relocate me I reached down and swept my arm behind her knees, catching her fall with my other arm. She gasped, then tightly wrapped her arms around my neck as I lifted her. Standing, I carried her to the side of the bed and gently placed her on the mattress. I lifted her head, sliding a pillow beneath it while sweeping her hair out to the sides. Ensuring the blindfold was secure, I moved down and straightened her dress, fussing over the hem until it was even.
Next, I took her arm and lay it above her head, leaning over and tying the far strap around her wrist, palm-up. I did the same on the other side so that her arms crossed above her head. Lovingly I scooped her hair over her shoulders and laid it down her body, long enough to cover the swell of her breasts in the manner of a classical painting.
Kneeling at her side, I crossed my arms like hers and laid my fingertips on the upturned underside of her wrists. Slowly, my fingers began tracing down her body, from the wrists to the elbows, down her triceps to her shoulders, over the dress and down the sides of her breasts, along her belly and finally coming together at the top of her hip on the leg closest to me. Then they continued, down her thigh to the knee, dragging my fingernails along her shin and the side of her calf to her delicate ankle, where I placed the next strap. I did the same to her other leg, tracing down to her foot still wrapped in its strappy heel. The knots were tight, but there was enough give for her to bend her legs to the side if needed.
I stepped off the bed and went over to the open drawer of the nightstand. I reached in and took out the other items I would require this evening, placing them beside the honey and whipped cream. The last item from the drawer was a pair of scissors, which I took with me to the foot of the bed.
The dress had been bought earlier today for this night and this night alone, though my wife did not know that yet. She believed it was a thoughtful gift, happily accepted and all the more so because I had requested she wear it tonight. In it, she was striking and beautiful and memorable as I knew she would be, a living fantasy of glittering sexuality. But to fully worship my wife as she deserves to be requires sacrifice, and while the dress was a marvelous creation, it was really only so because of the perfection beneath it. Thus, with its intended one-time purpose fulfilled, the destruction of this lesser beautiful thing would serve to elevate my wife's worth all the more.
Kneeling between her legs, I lifted the hem and placed the scissors in the nock of the slit. Steadily I closed the blades, severing the material with a satisfying snip. My wife tensed, suddenly nervous of the metallic sound, but she relaxed as I slowly moved up her body, careful to never touch her skin with the cold metal. At the end, I carefully moved her hair out of the way, then cut the last strip of material under her arm. Her body was moving beneath me, breathing rhythmically but forcefully as her hips twisted back and forth gently and her arms flexed and lightly strained against the bonds. Beneath her hair and the loose halter straps of the dress I could see the aroused flush of her skin.
I placed the scissors off to the side and stepped off the bed, realizing I was missing something. In my haste I had forgotten an essential part of my plan, and I chided myself as I quietly stole from the bedroom back to the kitchen, shutting the door behind me. With great care I filled a glass with ice and water, never making enough sound to carry through the door and give away my activities. Satisfied, I returned to the bedroom, pausing at the door to look upon my moonlit wife, tied to the bed and awaiting my attentions and devotion. She was waiting for me, writhing and almost primed for release, but that was still a long time coming; my gratitude and love, manifested in pleasuring her body, was not to be rushed, even by her.
I walked to the side of the bed, since the next part required access to her body with minimal contact. Grabbing the headboard for support, I leaned down above her hands and flicked my tongue across her fingertips, moving back and forth between her hands. Taking a sip of ice water, I slipped my mouth around her forefinger, sucking on it like a straw. I released it and went to her middle finger, then her ring finger, and finally her pinky. I did the same to the other hand, drinking the cold water and alternating between hot and cold as I sucked on her fingers.
Next my lips and tongue brushed down the hairless underside of her forearms, one after the other, reinforced with cold drops of water. I kissed and nibbled down one arm while my fingers played on her skin around my mouth. When I reached her shoulder, I leaned back, carefully resting the cold glass atop the bone pressing up from inside her elbow. My tongue and fingers danced down her other arm as the cold condensation sweated down the glass, onto the cleft inside her elbow. I placed the glass on the nightstand again, warmly licking the water from her elbow as I reposition further down the side of the bed. Pressing one hand on her chest to keep her hair in place, I slid the lightweight material of her ruined dress from her torso. Pausing to gently lay her hair across her naturally flattened breasts, further tormenting myself by hiding her glorious body under nothing but her hair, I took the corners of the dress and laid it open on the bed beside her body, revealing her toned stomach and lacy thong, dark blue in the store this afternoon but black in the darkened room. Her legs quivered and flexed in the open air.
Continuing my work, I swirled cold water just behind closed lips, cooling the flesh but keeping my tongue warm. I leaned forward and placed my lips high between her breasts and barely opened my mouth, letting the water dribble out and slide up between her collarbones around the base of her neck. She gasped sharply, and I quickly moved up and suckled her neck, the cold of my lips encircling my hot tongue as I lightly bruised the skin in my sudden assault. She moaned then, the first vocalized noise either of us had made since returning home.
I couldn't resist kissing her, knowing that she wanted it, too. Though brief, it was intense, and I strained to reign myself in. Stepping back from the bed I swapped the ice water for the honey. Nimbly I stepped onto the bed around her armstraps, kneeling above her head.
