Trial by Fire

I should have known something was imminent. Perhaps in the way you lingered as you kissed me in the morning, your lips urgent, your tongue teasing, and the gently violent way your teeth pulled on my lips. Maybe I should have pondered the glint in your eye or paid more attention to the extra care you took in "dressing to be seen," the sheath-like skirt, form fitting blouse that emphasized your breasts, and the way you daubed perfume on the back of your neck, legs, arms, and across the top of your mound. In any event, there were signs that I missed…the only possible disappointment in my day was that I was too dense to comprehend the special evening you had in store for me.

The call to my office inviting me to dinner was a special touch. I never got to go home and sniff out your preparations. The wine loosened me up, the pasta was light and sensual, and you were exquisite—witty, tempting, and a touch mysterious—eyes teasing, lips promising, simply seductive. You know how I love to drive but the taxi-ride home was one I'll never forget: fingers trailing along my leg, your refusal to let me touch, the temptation of one more button opened on your blouse. By the time I fumbled to pay the driver my temperature was on broil. I truly suspect that if I didn't have such a penchant for delayed gratification I would have taken you as we entered the house. Lucky for me I didn't.

I remember the talk we had when we first started dating; how fearful I had been to bring up my sexual peculiarities: but after two girlfriends in a row who were as vanilla as can be, I didn't want to risk another relationship that lacked sexual creativity and spontaneity. That's all so distant now, as I recall the way you dragged me into the bedroom, tugging at my shirt, undressing me step-by-step, and fully taking charge. Even as you pushed me back on the bed I had no real clue, your body pressing against me as you reached up and secured my wrists, the hemp rough against my skin as you tightened the restraints down and moved to my legs, stripping my trousers away—but I couldn't fathom why you left my briefs as you fitted the loops around my ankles—even then my mind asked, "how will she get around the damn underwear?" Silly me. The silken blindfold was a nice touch, it caressed my face and made me concentrate on my other senses: sound, scents. I could hear you moving around the room; discern the sound of candles being lit, vanilla wafting through the room. The rustle of your clothes as you changed was intriguing: I could tell that you were both subtracting from and adding to your body. As always, your scent was intoxicating: heady cinnamon spices that elicit from me the desire to fuck, and fuck only you.

The rattle from the tray you were carrying disarmed me. I couldn't figure out what that was, but your fingers tracing their way across my body soon made me forget all about the clinking of glass and swashing of liquid. I adore the way your nails traced the contours of my body dragging across muscle, pushing into recesses, raising Goosebumps, and every so often causing me to flinch—or is it sigh—in pain. As much as I adore the blindfold, I understand why you removed it, you needed me to see what was coming. But of course, my first vision was you. Dressed in silk stockings, spiked boots, leather panties and bra, glossy bright red lips, and long fingerless gloves, what a vision you were. Even though I love and trust you, I admit to trepidation when the first thing you took from your tray was a pair of scissors and the first move you made was towards my crotch. However, the deft way you sliced away my briefs left little time for concern and my cock was already straining, already fully engorged. I love when you straddle me and this was no exception. The slick, cool strength of the leather both caressed and punished my cock as you situated yourself over me and over my cock—your legs pressed tight against my hips while my eyes wandered from your half-hooded eyes to your lips to the tops of your breasts that swelled over your bra to the metal studs that were imbedded in the leather. You squirmed as you settled in, teasing me, promising me things to come. Ahhh, a warm washcloth removed from the tray, rubbing it across my chest, removing the slight smells of the day, across my arms, through my exposed armpits. So natally warm and comforting; so incongruous to the setting and your demeanor and costume. I longed for you to speak, to murmur words of love, but you remained silent throughout. Of course, I dared not say a word.

Your next move thrilled me as you removed an apothecary mug and began to lather me. I realized that my chest—never bare since the first proud moments it sprouted random hairs during puberty—was going to be shaved. The lather, warm and soothing, both relaxed me and intensified my desire, an odd coupling of muscular relaxation and intense sexual urgency. I never expected the straight razor. Its gleaming blade ominous and threatening, I almost begged for a safety razor but waited. I don't know where you learned to use such a blade, but your firm and sure strokes were impressive as you circled my nipples and removed every vestige of hair. Occasionally stropping the razor I squirmed at the scraping sound of blade against leather; the promise of precision and danger. I shouldn't have been surprised when you moved to my legs, but I was. "Too fem" I used to snicker at guys in the gym who shaved their legs, guess I can't snicker much now. The sight of you straddling my crotch, turned round so I was gazing at your leather clad ass, was remarkable. The stretching, twisting, and retracting of your body was exotic— sensation was magnified by the sound of moving leather—do you remember how I tried to shift so my cock would be more directly nestled between your legs?

I finally gave in to the restraints and stopped resisting. My eyes closed, my body relaxed I gave in to your desires, because I know that your desires always become my own…like that afternoon in the islands…but that's another story. By the time you started maneuvering around my cock and balls I was fully under your spell, no resistance, no fear, I knew that you were fully in control and supremely confident. The delicate hairs on my pubis, still cayenne colored and untouched by the grey strands that peppered my head and face, fell away under your touch like feathers drifting through the spring sky. The air wafting across my body felt entirely different, without even the thin protective layer of bodyhair; I was much more exposed to the delicate caresses of every current, every downdraft. When you rose to study your handiwork my eyes were incapable of fully opening, my breath was alternating between deep inhalations and shallow gasps. The oil that you began to apply to my skin was like a warm balm. Your strong fingers caressing my neck, shoulders, chest, abdomen, teasing across my sensitive nipples, stretching fully down my legs in long languid strokes, your fingers manipulating my balls, my steely cock. I had no idea what to expect next, I suppose I anticipated that you would begin to rub against my oily body, as I have done to you, I didn't anticipate where you would go.

I stared in awe, and some poutiness, when you got up and walked across the room. I hated to lose contact with you, but was consumed by your pale skin framed in black leather. The gentle but tantalizing shimmy that shed your panties sent pulses through my cock. Your own bare mound is so inviting, so perfect I began to fantasize about you riding my face while I was bound to the bed…maybe next time. I snapped out of my daydream when you again straddled me and with one smooth motion lifted my cock to your pussy lips and impaled yourself. The pleasure cannot be explained, it brings tears to my eyes to remember the feeling of being inside of you. When you reached over and grabbed the candle I was at first unsure and then fully terrified. I knew instantly what you were going to do and just as instantly knew that I had no say in the matter. The first splashes across my upper chest were excruciating. You can probably explain my twitching body much better than I can recall, I heard a moan escape you as my hips flew off the bed and drove my cock to new depths within you. I felt your pussy muscles grasp and clutch at my cock but my head was still swirling from the shock of the hot wax.

The second splash from the candle was just as intense, though I think I maintained a little more control. By the fourth or fifth time I think I was beginning to hit a rhythm and kept pumping my cock into you even after the pain began to subside. It seemed, however, that every time I started to bear the pain you found a new site to cover. The first drops on my nipples were the most painfully gratifying. You know how sensitive my nipples are and took the risk of more permanent damage, thank you. I've never seen the look in your eye that I saw when you put down the candle and began to ferociously fuck me. You've never ridden me like that and every time I think of it, to this day, I get an instant erection. Your velvet glove pistoned, machine-like, over me. The way you clenched and unclenched your muscles, your breasts bouncing up and down in front of me, concerned only with your own pleasure, made me want to pleasure you ever-more. When you started to cum I wanted nothing so much as to be able to grab your hips and push even faster into you, but my pleadings were drowned in your cries of pleasure. Your orgasm seemed to crest and fall forever. I wasn't expecting to cum so it was wonderful when I felt the boiling in my balls. As I got closer my ass was coming fully off the bed and my cock went from being fully sheathed to almost fully out of you with each nanosecond that passed. My orgasm came from the most primitive part of me. I've never made those sounds before, nor have I felt the power that flowed through my being as I began to explode. Your screams, my moans, the splashing of our bodies together created a cacophony of sound that will ring in my ears for months.

It was one night, among many, that flitter through my mind every day. I feel so lucky to be with you, love you and to bring you pleasure. I long for the next surprise you bring, but, for tonight, the surprise will be mine, I can barely wait for you to get home so you can see the special apparatus I've built for you…but that, as they say, is a story for another night.