Bound and Blindfolded

I walk into the bedroom. My husband is waiting. He stands, so still, watching for me. He is nude.

He touches his lips with his forefinger. Silence.

I stand at the door, my hands by my side.

I tremble. After all this time, he still surprises me.

I am frightened, a little. He won't harm me, but the newness of this stimulates me.

He reaches into a pile of things on the bed and pulls out a scarf.

I watch as he walks over to me, ties it around my face.

He hasn't touched me, yet. I shiver.

He notices. I feel his finger reach up, touch my ear. He strokes it, gently, then caresses my hair.

I am comforted, but still don't feel safe.

He touches my cheek, then unbuttons my blouse, slowly but deliberately.

There is a pause when it falls open. He admires my breasts, the new pink bra, the lace that you can almost see through, I imagine his arousal.

No kisses, yet, he pulls the blouse away. I feel his fingers stroke down my back, from the bra strap to the panties which show above my shorts. I tremble, again, do not move, aching to hear his voice, reassuring me.

Wanting to feel his fingers again.

He waits, silently, lets my trepidation build.

I feel his fingers loosening my belt, unsnapping the shorts. He unzips them so very, very slowly, each sound individual, sharp agains the silence of the room. He lets them fall, his hand moves around and cups my bottom. Still. I'm not to step out of them, yet.

He kneels before me, his hand sliding down my leg as he does so. So slowly, He's so prone to be in a hurry with these things, how does he control himself, this time?

I feel his hand behind my calf, lifting my foot, then he slips off my shoe and moves it away. He does the same to the other. I hope he's careful, they're new. He repeats his firm movements again, pulls my shorts away.

His hands move to the back of my thighs and I sense him pausing a moment with his face in front of my panties. I hear his breathing, smelling my sex. This arouses me more, but all I sense is the perfume I placed on my wrists.

He stands. He is insistent, now, aroused. He moves behind me, holds my arms, pushes me toward the bed. His hands guide me to turn around, sit on the bed, then he takes me behind my back and beneath my knees, moves me to lie down on the bed. Once down, he moves me to the center.

He climbs on top of me, and slowly moves my arms to the bedposts. I feel his bind my wrists.

He turns, his bottom before me (if only I could see), his feet beside my chest. I feel him tie my legs together, then to the foot rail.

He gets off the bed.

I sense him in the room, then decide I don't really know. I'd left the door open, and barefoot, I wouldn't hear him if he walked out.

Time passes. I hear the clock downstairs. I wiggle a bit, testing my bonds. I'm not restrained painfully, but I'm secure. I'll be here until he releases me.

I hear him move, beside the bed. He drapes something soft over my face, pulls it away. It feels like another scarf. I feel it placed over my chest, slowly drawn away, then again on my stomach, drawn away, then on my thighs, away, then my calves.

I hear him tying it on his head. He's blindfolding himself.

He leans over, kisses my lips, tenderly, yet passionately. When I begin to part my lips for him, his hand moves beneath my chin, stops me. Slowly.

I can feel the drape of the ends of his blindfold as he moves his kisses about my face. He kisses my forehead, pulls my blindfold down enough to kiss my brows. So slowly, but I wiggle a bit.

I'm getting so hot. My lips part, aching to take some part of him inside my mouth. My knees move apart, but are restrained by his bondage. I wiggly my hips in frustration.

He moves away, his hand lies still on my tummy. Be still.

So this is my torture. He's doing all the things that I love, that he knows make me hot. I always want him, but he's making me want him, now.

When I respond, he stops.

I get it.

I am still, somehow, and he moves to kissing my chest, staying at the tops of my breasts. He lingers there, forever, pausing only to see the blush on my skin. I struggle to stay still, but lose control and begin thrusting my hips upward, hoping to touch some part of him.

To grind.

He instantly backs away, his hand to my tummy, Still.

I moan my desire.

His finger touches my lips. Quiet.

The moan turns to a whimper of frustration.

When I am silent, I feel his lips return to just above my breasts. He kisses, slowly, passionately, teasing me. I am silent and still, and am rewarded by his fingers pulling down my bra straps.

Oh, my.

I arch my back to pop my breasts out further. This is apparently allowed in our game, as he ardently kisses the newly exposed flesh, though still slowly. Each kiss so sweet, so passionate, so unhurried. He alternately nibbles and suckles, as if every spot on me deserves all that he can deliver to show his desire and devotion to my pleasure.

His love.

I'm building. I can't help it , I tremble uncontrollably at my sense of his devotion to my pleasure, my anticipation of what he will do.

I still have my bra and panties on! He's not gone anywhere near my center, shall we say, yet he's got me panting for him, aching for him.

There are seven places on me that if he touched, at this moment, I would explode.

I am still, though, and I feel him reach behind me and unfasten my bra. He pulls it up, away from my breasts and I feel the cool air of the room on my nipples. They must be fully erect, already, though.

He starts at the edge, where the swelling is just apparent, and kisses slowly around and around. My nipple aches for his lips, his teeth, but he carefully stays away. kissing slowly in a circle. Normally, this would drive me back down the curve, but since he's prepared me so carefully, I stay aroused.

Right where he wants me.

I concentrate on staying still though my body fights to move, to respond, to seek his touch. He rewards my control with passionate suckling of my nipple. It is heaven, suction, then nibbles, then suction again and again, the cycle pushing me up, up, up.

It's ended when my hips buck under him. HIs hand returns to my tummy. I instantly stop. Tears fill my eyes. This isn't fair.

His hand begins a slow circular motion on my tummy, gently pressing, rubbing.

"Ohhhhh...."

Despite my sound, his mouth moves to my other breast, this time directly to the center. The rubbing doesn't stop, but he gives me the full treatment, passionate kisses, suckling, nibbling.

The circular motion moves to just work his fingertips under my panties. I thrust, seeking his fingers to go lower, lower.

The circling speeds, the fingers move lower.

I'm so hot, so aroused, my hips move uncontrollably, seeking his touch, his caress, his...

Penetration.

He moves down, begins kissing my thighs.

Oh, my, this goes on a short time, then I feel his hands pull the panties down.

His kisses move to just above my hair. It's an important spot for us, that we've marked with a tiny rose tattoo in subtle pink and green. The truth is, theres a tiny scar there where he bit me, once. It's white, but now cleverly worked into the rose.

I always shave to just expose it. No one sees it but him. So much of me is his, alone, but this is our symbol of our mutual devotion.

Of course, he has one, too.

He kisses and suckles the rose, his chin caressing my sex. I press upward, insistently, hoping to force his tongue to complete me. His hands work around my bottom, a finger finding my button, circling just one time then finding it's way inside.

I cannot spread my legs for him. My desire for him is awesome, the size of the universe. I just desperately desire to surrender, to open to him.

I cannot move downward to bend my knees for his access.

I writhe as I try all those things, but I am silent, until I moan in frustration. His finger pulls away and I feel him wets me with something slippery, presses it between my legs with his fingers.

He fucks his cock between my legs, lets me grind along it's length. We both know he cannot come to orgasm this way, the sensitive underside protected, but this lets me ride up and down along his length. He matches my rhythm, alternately frustrating my movements since he moves with me, then holding still to let me pleasure myself. I'm bucking wildly, trying to get the sensation, the rhythm, the ....

I scream when it comes.

We call it The Orgasm, emphasis on 'The'. The waves of intense sensation radiate from my center out to the edges of my body, the tips of my fingers, the ends of my toes. Each spasm of pleasure washes out, back in , out back in. This went on for some time.

I'll spare you the mechanics, but he had to wash the sheets twice. The bedspread, well, we needed a new one, anyway. I was actually sorry to see it go, though.

To his credit, he experienced this through his contact with me. He didn't take the blindfold off. He pressed his lips to my neck and he swears he could feel it. His hands held my waist until I was still. He kissed my lips and my face while he released the bonds, pulled off the blindfolds, and then he held me. When I complained that the wet spot was stetting cold, he rolled over and held me on top of him.

He was still so hard and he moved to penetrate me, but I stopped him.

"NO, you wonderful man, you. No pussy for you for a week."

"How about I kiss you awhile and we re-negotiate?"

"Okay, but you have to be absolutely silent while you do it."

I tied his hands behind his back. We later agreed on a day, an hour, 15 minutes, and, oh, well...that's another story.