He walked into the bedroom in the morning light. She was on her knees, hands splayed forward on the bed, stretching for all the world like a giant cat. Her back arched and her buttocks proudly displayed, her perhaps too long hair spilling over the edge of the bed, despite her being in the center.
"Hello, dear," he said, striding to the dresser and sliding open its top drawer. "I have a gift for you."
"Do you?" she asked, still in cat pose. "I bet I know what it is."
"Really," he said, removing the small, gift wrapped box and tossing it beside her on the bed, bow and all. Her hand snatched out and she flipped brusquely onto her back, wrapping herself from head to belly button in auburn locks. He watched her as she made a space for her mouth and nose. "Without even looking?"
"Vibrator," the disembodied lips said, followed by a grin of disembodied teeth.
"Without even opening it."
"I go through your things," and she squeaked as he tickled her bare foot. "You have broad and exquisite tastes." Her fingers worked at the wrappings, soon revealing a modest box whose color must have been puce. It took her some fiddling with the edges but, as he walked around the edge of the bed, she managed to open the lid.
As she pulled the oblong object from its trappings, he placed a hand on her covered breast. She gasped, perhaps at both things. "You're very quiet." And she licked her lips.
"What else have you discovered?" he asked as he found her nipple beneath her pile of hair, gently tapping it with his fingertip.
"Recently?" She placed the new toy on her belly and slid her hands under the pillows at the top of the bed. Beyond the pillows to the ironwork headboard. "Just these." And of a sudden her back was arched, and her hands well above her head, holding a pair of soft cuffs, connected to themselves around one of the iron rungs of the bed.
He was astride her in an instant and she giggled at the shock of his weight. She felt his hardened member against her breast as he leaned to fasten her wrists. He moved down her and pressed his mouth against hers and she was gasping afterward. "And I also found," she said between breaths, "something for the other end of the bed." And his fingers traced a line down her body, over her wetness, leaving a streak down the inside of her leg to her calf. Her leg stretched until it was pointed at the corner of the bed where another cuff was lying on the covers.
In the end, she was spread apart on the bed, open to his caresses, the power of the new toy, and she may, in the end, have screamed a bit when he finally entered her and the orgasm struck like thunder and rolled through her body. All before breakfast.
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The pair found a secluded stretch of sandy beach. They placed their various belongings, towels, sandals, backpack, on the sand. She sat down, unfolded the towel, flipped to her stomach, and laid down, chin on her crossed wrists.
"I'm not sure I'm going to help you."
"You seemed fairly interested in the idea earlier."
"Oh, don't get me wrong." She turned to her side and propped her head on her hand. "I'm very interested. Maybe I just want to see your efforts." She grinned up at him. Her hair was in a tight bun in honor of the sand and salt water. It made her smile seem like it had more teeth than usual.
"As you will." He turned and unceremoniously knelt. With two hands cupped together, he plunged his fingers into the sand and pulled a pile away. After a few minutes of digging, he noticed that she couldn't really sit still. She kept rolling over, crossing and uncrossing her legs. More than fidgeting, outright restless. He paused, sighed.
"Problem?" he asked.
"There is a reason," she began, lying face up, steadfastly not looking at him, "that I let you tie me up so often."
"I see. This would go quicker if I had your help." He watched her as she visibly came to a decision, flipped herself around, and crawled over to the edge of the hole he'd been crafting. She seemed visibly surprised.
"You haven't been idle."
"No, I have not. Not nearly ready however." He watched her as her eyes glossed over a bit, only half focused on his handiwork. He thought a moment. "Care to size it up?"
She hesitated, coming back to herself. "I would, in fact." And she stepped down into the hole, placed her hands on either side and kicked her feet out to sit. Her toes had free reign with her legs stretched out and her knees slightly splayed. The depth came to her waist and it was wide enough that she couldn't touch the sides with her elbows. "Roomy," she said.
"Quite."
"What now?" she asked, still fidgeting.
"We keep digging. Ways to go yet."
"Is there? We didn't discuss specifics. Something about me being buried in the sand, unable to move, all while I play with my new toy. Does this," she gestured at her circumstance, "not allow for that?"
"You know it doesn't. I'd need to wrap you in plastic in order to keep you in this hole."
"And?" she smirked. "You didn't bring any?"
"Enough," he said, recalling when he last wrapped her in plastic. "You keep digging by your feet and I'll dig where your bottom will sit. We'll meet in the middle."
And so it went, working alongside sarcastic comments and groans of frustration as sand collapses and, perhaps purposeful, body checks were the norm. Eventually, she stood, put her hands on her hips, and let out a sigh.
"This is what I was afraid of," she said, nearly hip deep standing straight up. "I've gone from near frantic expectation of a horrendous orgasm to a measly pout of concern that I've dug my own grave. This is," she gestured at the piles of sand surrounding them, "a lot of sand."
He stood as well and used his finger on the tip of her chin to turn her face up to his. "Well," he said, wrapping an arm firmly about her waist and pulling her tight against his body. He bent to kiss her and she closed her eyes as his lips brushed hers. "I could blindfold you, I suppose," and she felt each syllable against her skin.
"That might work," she whispered back, pondering. "Since you left the clingfilm at home, I can't imagine you've brought a blindfold."