I have been in the same posture for way too long.
I find it hard to breathe with my chest stuck between my own weight and the bed.
I can't move my hands, which is killing me and, to make it even worse, these handcuffs are way too tight.
I shake my legs when I feel the tingling to avoid them falling asleep. Being upside down doesn't make things any easier. Having the ankles tied even less. I stretch my toes and move my knees. It seems that the blood runs smoothly again. For now.
Immobilized, I can only turn my head: "Why does he take so long? Maybe he hasn't received my WhatsApp message, or maybe something happened to him, he is never this late." And then there is the question that I try to avoid: "What if he doesn't come?"
It's turning out to be a bad day to surprise my boyfriend.
Don't think I'm worried that something might happen to me. No. I'm worried about breaking news: "dead woman found completely naked, lying face down on bed, ankles 5 feet apart and tied to bed, hands handcuffed behind her back, blindfolded, and a note between her knees where you could read:
"Today is a special day, today I am all yours. I am your whore. Do what you want with my body... WHATEVER YOU WANT."
But the worst part is not my breathing problems, numb legs or itchy ankles and wrists. The worst comes from between my legs: that itching, that inhuman heat and that uncontrollable humidity that I can't mitigate with my handcuffed hands.
I thank God when I hear the hinges of the house door squeak. The subsequent door slam tastes like glory to me.
I feel a drop slipping between my thighs just as the door to my room opens and a cool breeze runs through the curves of my bare skin.
Silence.
I don't move an inch. I feel tense from head to toe. For a few moments I think he'll snap and call me crazy and I don't know how many more words.
But I hear nothing. Only his quick breathing.
I feel the air changing as he approaches me.
Silence.
I tilt my face trying to look in the direction where I think he is standing.
I narrow my eyes trying to see through the blindfold. But the red silk ribbon does not let even a glimmer of light pass through.
I smile into the darkness and rest my cheek on the sheet.
I bite my upper lip, forcing myself to remain silent. I would scream for him to fuck me right now, impale me with all his strength, I've never been so turned on, but I bite harder until I hurt myself.
The bed sinks to my right.
I rub my face with the sheet desperate to feel something. Suddenly, a hand caresses falls on my back.
I answer, startled, with a quick movement and turn my head to my right. I don't know where he is, and for a moment I feel stupid thinking that maybe I'm looking in the wrong direction.
A caress on my lips calms me.
The hand on my back begins to feel my skin, going down. He runs over my buttocks with the back of his hand. It's a subtle touch. Made with care and respect. It continues going down the legs until it reaches the scarf that ties my right ankle to the bed. As if he knows what I feel, he massages the area, surrounding it with all his fingers.
Again, the unbearable nothingness, until I hear something drop and move. I imagine my boyfriend unbuttoning his pants and letting them fall to the floor.
The mattress sinks again, but this time the movement is between my spread legs.
I instinctively try to look back, but all I see is black. Pitch. Black.
Ten fingers touch the inside of my calves, one hand on each calf.
They move up.
Slowly, but without stopping. More.
My ass rises instinctively and my anus contracts, dragging with it the vaginal lips in an accomplice wink: It is telling him "I'm all yours."
Being blindfolded sharpens my other senses, especially touch. I can almost see those outstretched fingers reaching my knees, moving up to my thighs, surrounding them, squeezing them...
I whine as I bite my bottom lip. I even think I feel his fingers different from other times, rougher but more cautious. I would almost say that I feel the fear in his fingertips, as if each contact could wake him from his sleep.
The hands keep going up, the fingers covering my ass cheeks, separating them, the thumbs brushing in a very light way my pussy lips. "My God" I scream in my head. And then his fingers touch my anus.
He repeats the move a few times and the situation is already reaching a point of no return. Feeling those fingers so close to my dripping pussy drives me crazy.
Each thumb plays with one of my holes: my anus contracts again and my cunt showers the other.
"Finally,", I think while the finger penetrates me almost unintentionally. He didn't have to force himself, it just slipped inside. It has been like a clueless mountaineer who did not expect that the edge of the precipice was so slippery, and falls, and falls to the dark depths...
I arch my back and my wrists crack inside the handcuffs... I'm dying to hear the noise that mountaineer makes when he hits bottom, but that moment hasn't come yet because the massage moves to my back. I feel my thumb leaving a trail in its wake, as if it were a snail.
His hands reach my shoulders and his elbows reach my hips.
His knees bumping into mine.
Between my legs I feel a breath in the form of a hot breeze that crosses, howling, the cliff of my buttocks.
The hands go down and turn that cliff into a valley full of holes throbbing desperately to be desecrated.
These dark moments of waiting are unbearable.
I move my hands seeking to touch something, but I can only feel air.
A wet contact in my pussy, and my hands open letting out the air they had just collected.
I know it's a tongue, but not seeing it makes the situation extremely kinky.
I feel his cheeks brushing the inside of my buttocks, his tongue tracing my pussy and his tongue plugging my anus.
I have never felt so exposed. I feel a certain uneasiness, especially when the tongue comes up and runs over my buttocks, avoiding the dark ring at the bottom. What if it's dirty? What if...?
My thoughts are immediately interrupted by the pressure on my anus. The tip of the tongue has plummeted in a slow spiral.
What is love? many have asked themselves. I, a simple nurse, tied and spread-eagled to a bed, have found the answer: love is sucking someone's ass. This is Love. Some have said that love is giving something without expecting anything in return... No. Love is giving even if you get shit in return.
And my boyfriend loves me very much... God! The first touches have turned into a brutal asshole pulling. His lips imprison the sphincter, channeling the passage of the tongue into my hole. And again. With each lick I feel myself dilating millimeter by millimeter.
He has always been a bit reticent about anal topics, but today he is making up for it at ease. It turns me on me even more knowing that he is letting himself go as much as I am.
Without leaving my ass aside, he attacks my other little hole with a finger. I get so wet so fast, that he knows his finger will need a reinforcement. He leaves for a moment to return with a new partner.
Now we are talking. He fucks me with his fingers, joining two of them like a barrel, the thumb extended like a hammer and the other two shrunken, with the trigger and entering from the side, faster and faster, with the thumb that finds my clit and strokes it harder and harder, making my body shiver under his touch.
The other hand continues to spread one buttock and, with its hardened tongue, drills into my anus, reaching deeper and deeper.
With half his tongue inserted in my ass, the rhythm of the fucking fingers increases without mercy. The brute force of the fuck forces me to bite the sheet. I can't, nor do I want to, repress moans that die on the mattress. The introduction of the simulated pistol starts from the side, but as it progresses, the fingers collide with my legs and turn to get the thumb wedged along the crack of the ass.
In the middle of a brutal moan, the tongue leaves my anus, but not the fingers of my little pussy that twist collecting the vaginal dew.
When they leave, they distribute the humidity through the little hole above.
Then again in my pussy, and again in my ass.
A point slips inside, calibrating my state of dilation. It is not optimal, but it is increasing.
Again, the unbearable nothing until the hands reopen the buttocks.
Something lands between them. It is long, cylindrical and hot. Throbbing life, the balls fall on my slit and the cock fills the inside of my buttocks. My goodness, how great it feels, it has become harder than ever.
The cock moves along the line of my ass. The tip stops at my hole. I imagine it as a sausage sticking out of the ends of the bread and spread with the most natural ketchup and mustard you will ever find.
My breath stops. My heartbeat bounces off my temples and I feel the echo in my bass.
I contract my buttocks.
A slap on the right buttock disapproves of my action. It hasn't hurt me, on the contrary, it leaves me expecting more.
I shake it, asking for more.
Another slap, now more spirited. One more. My buttock burns a little. The dick goes down, down and does not come back up. I feel the tip at the entrance of my treasure.
Pressure inside me. The bud crosses the sill of my lips but ends up coming out the top without getting inside.
The action is repeated one, two and three times. Few times have I been so in need of being fucked and not in any way: hard, violently, without showing any respect... And then he sodomizes me mercilessly, breaking my asshole into a thousand pieces and, just before cumming, I want him to put his dick in my mouth and fill it with hot cum.
When I'm about to ask him, his hands press on my buttocks and he sticks his cock in my pussy.
My arms tense, for a moment I think the handcuffs are going to break into a thousand pieces, but no. They resist. I stretch my neck and my mouth drops open.
I am happy.
I generally look for cuddles, attention and caresses to get in the mood. Not today. He has perfectly understood the game. I love his lack of affection, that he doesn't talk to me, that he doesn't kiss me. Just fuck. That's what a submissive slut like me needs. And that's what he is giving me.
I love how he is fucking me.
Still leaning on my buttocks, he pulls his cock out. But he is not leaving, he is just preparing himself. The next blow nearly slammed me into the headboard, ripping my ankles off my feet. My hair covers my face now. I feel it tickling my forehead and cheeks as his cock leaves from inside me again.
I squeeze my eyes shut and snort making my hairs dance on my face.
Another wild thrust. And another.
The knots of the ankles harden before so much work. It hurts, but I'll take it. The pleasure that emanates from my pussy is superior to everything. And even more so when he starts to fuck me with a good rhythm.
Before he entered the room, I was already prepared. In fact, I think I was since he got the objects out of the cupboard. I was close to cumming when, with my ankles tied and the bandage on, I closed the handcuffs. There was no turning back and my pussy has not stopped releasing juice all the time.
