The Chair

I pull into the driveway, checking the address. Pretty sure it is the right house, but I've never been here before. Out of the car, walking to the front door -- wondering to myself "Am I really going to see her again, after all this time?" And hearing the answer, loudly unspoken "Yes." I can hear your footsteps approaching the front door, a familiar pace, a pattern I've heard before. As you open the door, the years sweep away -- "Hi, you" I say, the vocalization sounding odd after all the non-verbal exchanges we've had. "Hi yourself" you answer. "I've been expecting you."

You ask me to come upstairs, saying "I've got something to show you." I follow you into the master bath and stop, confused, or perhaps surprised - there is a chair in the middle of the room, a chair with arms, placed so it is facing the shower; four scarves are draped on the counter nearby. Candles are burning all around -- several on the counter, a few on the floor by the shower, flickering yellow, sensuous light dancing around the room. They surround the chair, making it the focus, a centerpiece.

"Don't talk," you say. "Get undressed." I do. You tell me to sit in the chair, then use the scarves to tie my wrists and ankles to the chair, immobilizing me. My body starts to respond -- although I don't know what is next, I've not seen this side of you in many years, and it excites me.

Standing before me, reflected in the mirror, you very slowly undress. First the blouse, button by agonizing button, uncovering the swell of your breasts. I realize as you unfasten them, one by one, that your nipples are betraying you -- standing up against the fabric -- because you are not wearing a bra. All the buttons open, the blouse hangs free, showing a clear run of bare flesh from head to navel, but only promises and flashes of intimate flesh, memories rise just like my body does. You shrug, and it falls to the floor -- proud body, breasts erect, confident in yourself and what you are doing to me. Now the pants -- done equally slowly, the zipper moving down tooth by tooth, exposing yourself to me. Your hands, sliding down your hips, push the belt and everything else before them, dropping around your ankles where you kick it all away. You pause, momentarily, a naked statue of woman, fully aware of yourself, enjoying the look you see in my eyes, feeling my desire.

You step into the shower, water cascading off your naked body. I can only watch through the glass as you lather, rubbing all over, looking back at me as you run your slippery hands across your smooth curves. The glass starts to fog, partially blocking my sight, but only in places - when you splash or move, the water hitting the glass briefly clears the mist, providing a brief glimpse, a snapshot of nude woman. You rinse, making sure I can see, then sit down on the bench, leaning back into the corner with one leg raised, knee up towards me. I'm not sure what to expect next -- you pick up a razor and cream, looking toward me as if asking a question. I nod, not sure what is in store. You fill your hand with white, rubbing it between your legs, enjoying the view you are giving me. Then careful attention -- head bowed, sharp metal around tender lips, hands guiding and moving to get all the secret places. Another rinse -- I get a flash, an eyeful of bare smoothness -- my body calls out for contact, a touch, but I can't even move my hands to ease my heat. The final task done, you surprise me by turning toward me, smiling and starting to caress yourself. I see your hands start to wander in different patterns, first circling your breasts, then cupping and pinching a nipple; trailing down your flat stomach, toying with me, with yourself. Your hand strokes down the outside of your leg, over and back down the inside, stopping just shy, but promising more.

Your nipples are showing how excited you are, made even harder by your pinches, rolling your erections between your fingers. I watch your other hand stray down, between your legs, fingers cover then pull back, rubbing gently at lips that are starting to open, lips that are fully exposed to my eyes. You lick your fingers, tasting yourself, then go back for more, fingers moving in a circle. Now you are really aroused, wet but not from the shower, as you sit back and spread your legs open a bit more - I see a finger penetrate, working in and out, then two are inside. Your thumb is still stroking, working around your clit; I can see you move, writhing, excited knowing I am watching and can't do anything. My excitement is obvious, throbbing, calling for your hand, my hand, mouth, anything.

I hear you comment that your fingers are too small, and you need something bigger....as you reach onto the counter and pick up something - a dildo, a large hard cock with a curve. You ask if I mind -- "no.." is all I can answer, throatily. You tease me with it in the shower spray, licking some water drops off the end. Now your turn, teasing yourself with the tip, just brushing your lips, spreading them slightly with promise of more. Your other hand is still at work, fingers caressing either side of your mound, moving up and down, dipping into the wetness uncovered by the cock in your hand; I can hear some jagged breathing. From my chair, I see the dildo enter -- just barely, testing, sampling, then you pull back out, suddenly all the way in with a gasp and a shudder. All I can see is your hand holding the base of the cock, the rest of it buried deep within you. You start to work it in and out, twisting as it slides, feeling it curve inside you, looking at me, seeing the hard throb that I can't reach or touch. Your moisture glistens on the dildo each time you withdraw, showing me how big it is, how deep you are going. Smiling with the knowledge of how excited you have made me. Still using your other hand, sometimes holding, cupping your breast, pinching nipples, licking your fingers and rubbing, sliding around the cock, feeling the motion, in and around your lips, pressing on your hard clitoris.

Close now, pushing deep in your excitement, pressure in all the right spots, as you release with a long moan, a rising and falling scream that echoes in the shower. I am harder than I've ever been, drops of moisture that aren't sweat visible on the tip, desperate for your touch. You step out of the shower, toy in your hand, water drops bead on your erect flushed nipples. First you lean forward and offer a nipple to me, followed by the dildo. You watch me enjoy the taste of you as I lick, take it into my mouth. "OK," you say, "that's enough." Leaving me tied, you pull the cock from my mouth and put it into my hand, saying "keep that for later" and go into closet to dry and change. When you return, wearing sheer silk that only accentuates your curves, you untie me, then gently take me by my offered member and pull me to the bed for the next round.