Hmmm, no answer. That's strange. I knocked on the door again. Still no answer, and no sounds coming from inside. Mrs. Peterson knew I was coming, she sounded very glad when I told her last night on the phone that I could come and fix her kitchen faucet first thing this morning.
I set my toolbox down, and went around to the garage. The door was closed, and her SUV was parked in front. I glanced around the back yard. Nothing. I went back to the front door, and knocked again. She must be down in the basement doing laundry.
Since she knew I was coming, I went inside, setting my toolbox on the kitchen floor. I opened the door to the cellar, but the lights were off, and no sounds coming from the washer. Now I was getting concerned, and decided to look for her. I made my way down the hall, opening doors and looking inside.
Reaching the end of the hall, I opened the door to the master bedroom, and that's where I found her. Sound asleep, dead to the world, lying in a sea of pillows on her huge bed. I started to back out of the room, figuring she would wake to my work sounds. I heard a sound, a soft moaning. Turning, I saw her roll over onto her right side, facing away from me, her body in a slight stretch. In doing so, the sheet and blanket had been pushed down to her hips, and I was left to stare at her back.
Her long, luscious back. The gentle curve off her hip to the slight hollow at the small of her back. Her skin smooth and firm all the way up to her shoulders, her arms outstretched above her head, hands almost touching. Her chestnut hair, in its' morning dishevel, flowing across her shoulders and upper back.
I couldn't tear my eyes from her. She was beautiful. I moved slowly to the foot of the bed to view her in profile. My eyes traveled up from her beautifully curved hip to her firm flat stomach opposite the graceful curve of her lower back. Upwards, to the side of her left breast, perfectly rounded and proud, tipped in a small nub of a nipple and all but devoid of an areola. Her face was partially hidden by her outstretched arm.
I wanted to see more, so ever so carefully I gently pulled downward on the sheets. They moved to expose another couple of inches of her. She didn't move, the gentle heaving of her breasts to her breathing unchanged. I gently pulled again, sliding the sheets down to the top of her thighs. Again, no movement from her.
I slipped to her side of the bed, facing her head on. I drank her in, the smooth contours of her face, caught in her morning beauty. Her exquisite body, stretched before me in a sensual pose. I stood there, transfixed by a true sleeping beauty.
My captivation with the splendor of what lay before me was broken by a sound, another soft sigh. Effortlessly she rolled onto her stomach, pushing her arms out further above her head in a cat-like stretch. Then she was still again, her breathing calm.
I let my eyes travel her body again, how smooth and taut it was. Her latest movement had dislodged a small mountain of pillows, revealing what appeared to be a pale green snake. Moving closer, I saw that it was a coiled soft rope that was attached to the headboard, the other end tied into a slipknot. A deviously delicious thought entered my head.
I carefully leaned across her, taking the looped end of the rope and slipping it over her outstretched hands. I slowly tightened the slipknot, holding her wrists snuggly together. Pulling the other end around the headboard, using it to hold her hands in their out reached position. She moaned softly, wriggling against the bed.
Looking around the room, I spotted a silk scarf on the dresser. Carefully folding it on the diagonal into one long wide band, I laid it on the pillow above her head. Slowly working the scarf side to side, I slipped it lower onto her face, working it towards her eyes. She moaned again, deeper, as the scarf covered her eyes and was tied down.
Stepping back, I watched her as I removed my clothes. Lost in an erotic dream, she writhed on the bed, grinding down into it. Once naked, I kneeled alongside of her. Leaning forward, I placed my fingertips on the back of her neck, letting them glide down, barely touching her skin as they passed over her shoulder blades. Floating down the length of her spine to the small of her back. Rolling my fingers slightly so that my nails barely tickled her soft skin as they slid over her asscheeks and downwards along the back of her thighs.
She moaned, almost purred, in pleasure. Arching her back, she rolled her ass up to me. Reaching the back of her knees, I turned my hands, letting my fingers slip upwards along the back of her thighs. Her legs spread a few inches. My fingertips slid higher, over her cheeks, dipping down into the small of her back, up along her spine, her neck, to her hair.
