This is my first try at erotica and I'm looking forward to feedback. <3
*
The waiting is the best and the worst part. I'd already opened a bottle of wine, a petite syrah to pair with dinner, and poured myself a glass before sitting down.
He'd left a blindfold by the bed this morning. He'd called earlier in the day to tell me he'd be late. Late, but he'd arrive promptly at 7.
"Wear the blindfold." He hung up without waiting for a response.
I had an hour before he was due home and ate the last of my dinner before taking the wine upstairs with me, turning off all but the hallway lights as I passed through the house.
My favorite soap was sitting on the bathroom countertop, also a gift from the morning. Turning on the shower, I removed my clothing and stepped in—steam caressing my body. The water ran over my full breasts, pausing at nipples that hardened in the shifting air before continuing down to my narrow waist and flaring over my hips.
The bar of soap smelled like Scottish heather, sweet and clean. I lathered a loofa and rubbed the scent into my skin, fingers trailing across myself. I couldn't help it. The anticipation of the evening was getting to me. The texture of the loofa across my breasts gave me goose bumps and I found my free hand tracing a path past my navel.
Leaning into the warm spray of water I pressed a finger between my legs, tracing my slit, while still slowly dragging the loofa across myself. Pressing more deeply, I slid a finger into my pussy, moving slowly to rub across my clit before moving back to deeper warmth. Pushing two fingers deeper, I pressed the palm of my hand against my clit. The water rolled down my back, massaging and relaxing my muscles as I began to writhe. Moving my hand faster, I plunged my fingers deeper, faster, and dropped the loofa. Fingers began pinching my nipples before I realized that they were, of course, my own. Kneeling, I rode myself to climax, water flowing through my hair, past my navel, and around my fingers.
I toweled off and dried my hair, choosing not to use any perfume and instead relied on the gentle scent of heather to cling to my damp skin. My dark hair hung just passed my shoulders. Static made it hallow my face after I pulled on a camisole top and panties. The clock read five minute until he was supposed to arrive. I put on the blindfold and lay down on the bed.
The front door opened a short time later. Smiling with anticipation, I listened to him move throughout the house, imagining what he was doing, when he'd come up the stairs. He moved into the kitchen—probably hanging up his keys. Then to the hallway—taking off his shoes. The dining room— perhaps surveying the remains of the my dinner that, in my anticipation, I'd forgotten to put away.
The tread of his footsteps on the stairs brought me back to focus. Or perhaps made me more aware of the intensity of my focus. The bedroom door opened. I stretched out on the bed and rolled to face the door, smiling, tracing the line of my hip. I knew he was watching.
His weight on the bed forced me to shift my weight away from him. His fingers trailed up my arm to my hands which rested just above my head. He lifted one, gently nipping at my fingertips, tongue flicking across my skin. I both felt and heard the click of a cuff on my wrist at the same moment. I pulled my hand away, startled, and found that the other end had already been secured to something.
"I thought we were supposed to be introducing new things slowly?" I was hesitant. Not only to ask but to know the response. I wasn't sure how I felt about restraints.
I could hear his smile. "It's my night to pick the game." I felt another cuff being secured to my other wrist and swallowed.
He kissed me then. His lips pressed firmly against mine, smothering any further protest from me while he ran a hand slowly down my side, pressing against me. He trailed kisses down my neck, but that didn't distract me from feeling his hand move from stroking my side to pushing away the fabric of my top and cupping a breast. I couldn't stop a gasp when he grazed his thumb across my nipple, tweaking the sensitive spot into a hard peak.
His weight shifted on the bed as he straddled me, hard thighs on either side of my own.
"I hope you don't like this top too much." I didn't have time to answer before he tore the straps.
He peeled the camisole down slowly, breathing onto my skin so that I could feel his heat. The stubble on his face grazed against my breasts as he taunted me and I felt the muscles in my back tighten as I involuntarily tried to press myself closer to him. He pushed my shirt open, baring my breasts to the cool air of the room for only a moment before his lips closed over a nipple, tongue rolling over the peak. I moaned, thrusting my chest forward, and felt his hardness growing against me. His hands traced the bit of lace at my waist for a moment, fingers barely going beneath the fabric. My wrists pulled at the cuffs. Maybe to remove the blindfold, maybe to put his hands on me and mine on him.
He began sliding down my torso, tongue and lips tracing a path across my smooth skin. He slowly slid my panties down my thighs, hands brushing close to my own heat. His teeth slid across my inner thigh and I felt his warm breath blow across my wetness just before he parted the folds and tasted. He moaned with me, deep and guttural, while moving my legs over his shoulders. He ran his tongue across my clit, teasing me, then pushed into me, spreading me open with his fingers for a deeper taste. My hips rocked into him while I tried to remember how to breathe.
His thumb pressed against my clit, but didn't move. My hips did, and his soft laugh frustrated me even more than the cuffs. He pushed fingers into me with aching slowness, thumb pulsating pressure on my clit, barely moving, and always moving away from my arching hips. His fingers moved in me, setting a pace that my body nearly begged to follow. I could feel myself tensing, nearing the crest, and then he stopped.
