The Red Tie

Many years ago, I was talking with a lady friend who was taking a writing class and one of the assignments was to write an erotic story. We would banter and flirt and I came up with this. I recently found it on my old computer in a very rough form. Polished it up a bit and here goes. The idea is similar to my Bar Story in that the characters are lovers who are apart, but play games to keep things spicy.

The package caught her eye before she was even up the stairs that Wednesday afternoon. It had been another bitch of a day, her heart practically stopped; she knew it could only contain one thing from one certain person. Almost subconsciously, her mind thought back to the touch of his hands, and the rake of his tongue across her lips the last time they were together. She was surprised to see her hands tremble as she picked up the small, narrow box. Going inside, she flung her coat aside, and sat down on the bed, almost afraid of what she was sure she'd find inside, yet fervently hoping it was what she thought it would be.

Finally, she opened the box, and HE practically screamed out at her in a blaze of brilliant, silken crimson; just the kind of tie he'd always said he would send. A small note on expensive stationery fell out of the box as she lifted the tie from the box.

Somehow, that evening's plans seemed unimportant now, or at least not as much as they had two hours earlier, and she was in an almost hypnotic trance as she slowly undressed. A soaking hot bath seemed like the only thing that would clear her head and make him go away, but then she would catch herself daydreaming and staring at the tie.

The warm water eased some of the tension in her body, and slowly she traced the soft curve of her left breast with a single finger. If she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine it was him, and she felt that familiar ache deep inside that always seemed more intense when he was there.

The water felt awfully cold. She was surprised to see an hour and a quarter had sped by, and she almost felt guilty about masturbating so long. With a cold shiver she leaped across the room to her bed, grabbing the pastel camisole as she went. She lay there under the covers and realized once again, that he was right, as usual. She did want, no, needed him to hold her, kiss her and love her as passionately as he ever had before. Of course, a little kink thrown in wouldn't hurt!

He was not coming over, then, maybe never, but instead was leaving that decision up to her. Even now, she knew her choice had already been made. She was under his control, and yet she knew she controlled him as well, and a smile slowly crept across her face. The note said when she was ready to see him, to wear the dress he'd always liked, that he would have her answer. Sleep seemed to never come that night and when it did, daylight was right behind.

The next day her body seemed like it was on autopilot, and she was sure everybody could sense, if not smell, her sexuality that had her bikini briefs soaked before she'd finished her first cup of coffee in the office. She had to make certain he saw her today; she couldn't wait any longer than the six more days it was going to take for him to come anyway. Literally and figuratively, she thought with a sly smile.

All day long she kept looking for him, imagining he was there every time she turned around, and though she never saw him, she could sense he was nearby. Sure enough, when she returned home that night, the red message light on her machine was blinking. "Hi, it's me, you looked great today. Take care."

The rest of the week dragged by interminably, and then it was Wednesday, the day he had set, and she felt like a sixteen-year-old again as she straightened up, and debated what to wear. Not that she would be wearing it for long, she thought, but that was part of the turn on. Again, the thought crossed her mind that she did not really know who was in control, or if it even mattered, or maybe they both were in their respective fantasies.

I always must be in control, she thought, but somehow, I can let myself go with him. Completely exposed, she felt surprisingly safe when he had held her before, and she longed for that feeling again. Finally, she decided on the black teddy and thigh high elastic stockings to go with the RED spike heels she had bought just for him. The ones that would never see the light of day outside, at least not actually walking in them!

She never heard the click of his key in her door, or the door closing as he quietly entered. She was sitting there on her bed, waiting, proud and her posture erect, anticipating. And then he was there, in her room, his hands caressing the nape of her neck, his lips hard against hers, and she wanted him now. He slowly removed the teddy. She stood before him proudly, naked, her hard nipples aching for his touch. His hand brushed her breast as he stroked her taut torso.

Unable to take the teasing any longer, she pounced on him, ripping open his pants, struggling to engulf his manhood, and she could feel him writhe with pleasure as his hot cum poured down her throat, hotter than she recalled. Begging him to take her, she knelt before him and grabbed his buttocks. He reached behind her and picked the tie off the nightstand where she'd left it the week before. She simply held out her hands and he proceeded to bind her wrists tightly and then tied her to one of the posts on the foot-board of her bed.

For what seemed like an eternity, he just caressed her lightly, and her skin felt almost electrified when his tongue finally lashed out at the small of her hard, muscled back. Suddenly, he thrust himself inside of her, and she felt the drenching juices of their lovemaking on her thighs as she rose to her knees and jabbed her heeled feet into his tight rear end. Her body arched and she wasn't sure if it was ecstasy or the sheer vulnerability of the moment that made her want to scream. After a forever of orgasms of varying intensity, he collapsed beside her, breathing deeply, both of them glistening in sweat.

Later, the TV played, and the light flickered off the Chinese carryout boxes they always ordered, and he pulled her close and slowly, rhythmically made love to her yet again, and she knew Thursday was going to be shot all to hell as it was every time, every month.

Next time, though, she got to pick the fantasy, and she already knew what it was going to be.