Nothing is as arousing and satisfying as playful sex with you. The joy of knowing that I can do what I want, for as long as I want to tease you makes me grateful for being with you. The way we switch places, reversing roles and taking the challenge to be the best at teasing and satisfying yields the most intense orgasms possible.
But you always win. Your dominant nature is so alluring, I WANT you to play with my body and my emotions because that's what ultimately gives you satisfaction. I never ignore the signs when I can sense that you're in the mood to play.
It has been six days since we had sex, last weekend. But this was our "date" night, and being dressed up for dinner and a play always makes you feel special. You purposely made me take a separate shower, even though you stood outside, naked and smiling at my frustration. I would have to wait, as I always do, until you are ready.
I shave as you shower, glancing over my shoulder to watch you, wishing that those hands gliding over your body were mine. You step out of the shower as I am rinsing the last of the shaving cream off my face. Your hair smells so sweet from the shampoo you used. I could easily get aroused, just watching you drying off next to me.
I want to feel your body against mine, to feel your hands touching me, to feel me inside you, to feel your mouth driving me insane. Taking you gently in my arms, I kiss you, nibbling softly on your lips. Your lips press firmly against mine and the absence of your playful tongue tells me that I might have to wait for anything more.
Entering our bedroom, I look in my closet for some ideas of what to wear. Behind me, I hear you say, "Don't bother, I have what you need right here."
You're holding up several long colored scarves in one hand. I know the drill. I silently climb onto the bed, lie on my back and wait. As you tie my wrists and ankles to the bedposts, I thank myself for the day you convinced me to buy this huge poster bed.
You slowly join me on the bed, naked and straddling my abs, holding the blindfold and that damn feather. In my mind, I hate being tickled in some places but am grateful that you don't like using candles.
As you slip the blindfold over my head and put it in place over my eyes, you kiss me lightly on the lips. "Remember, green is go, yellow is change to something else and red is to stop."
I am so familiar with the safe words. You have never caused me to use "red", and I rarely use "yellow" because you're doing something that makes it fun for you. You know you can do what you want because you know what I like, so "green" has never been used either.
You lean over, kiss me on the cheek and then whisper in my ear.
"I'm going to tease you until you beg tonight. I love hearing you moan. I might even sit on your face."
"Green!" I say, boldly.
"Oh, no, you're much too eager. Maybe I'll just suck on your cock."
"GREEN! Dark green!" I yell, to which you laugh heartily.
As always, you start with that feather. You brush my cheek with it and slide it under my nose. I detect a whiff of your perfume on the feather. That special perfume that makes me hard because of where you put it. I inhale and moan, "Oh, damn."
"I love hearing you moan, especially so early on."
The feather glides down my chest to my navel and moves to tickle each arm from my wrist to my shoulder. Then you move to kneel next to my body and I feel a finger lightly touching my balls and I twitch. The feather glides up and down each of my legs as a fingernail lightly scrapes across my balls, over and over. My cock is erect and begging for attention.
The feather disappears and you cup my balls in one hand, just nestling them in your palm.
"Touch my cock, babe," I say, not asking, not begging, but hoping.
