Friday, January 19, 2007

Scuffed Toes

P. I felt his breath under the tie, on my cheek. His arms went down mine, pushing them behind my back as he reached down to my wrists. He changed position and pushed me forward, still holding my wrists in place, the tie still covering my eyes against the carpeting, fixed tightly enough around the back of my head to stay in place. I heard the slap of the leather belt behind me and felt it coil a few times around my arms, leaving my fingers free to wriggle uselessly, but that’s all. He pulled me back by the shoulders onto my heels, and I sat there, silently, wondering what he was doing. I could hear him breathing, but nothing was happening to me.

D. She sat, fully clothed, on the floor, quiet as she could be, the strange black bar across her face like she was protecting her identity, her shoulders straining at the pull of her arms behind her. She’d been complaining lately that the toes of her shoes were getting scuffed from all the kneeling, but she had nothing to say now. I wanted to touch her more than anything, but was enjoying this too much, the opportunity to look at her hard, the square, pouting lips and the way her skirt lay across her thighs. The small brown moles on her face and neck. I rubbed across her lips with my thumb and she shivered at the touch. I pulled my hand back, stood up over her and unzipped my pants.

P. I heard his zipper and waited for the warm approach of his cock to my lips but it didn’t come. His breathing skipped a little but there was no gasp, no squish sound, nothing. I wondered if he was undressing and angled my head down a little, as if my eyes might meet his and be humbled.

D. My cock hovered out of my fly, desperate for her, but I wouldn’t touch it. I kneeled down myself and popped the buttons of her shirt open one by one, her chest tightening and relaxing under my fingers until I had them all. I opened her shirt wide and pulled it down over her shoulders as far as I could, part of her tether now. Her breasts, small but swollen, were open to me and I blew on them. She reared up a bit on her heels to get closer to me, but I held back.

P. Then there was something scraping me, like a nail but duller. It was slippery too and it crossed my breasts and then my sides slowly, pirouetting a delicious tickle in my skin and across my nipples. It went on for a long time, longer than I thought I could possibly take, but I couldn’t say a word and I knew it. The words “David, do something, David my pussy, please, something please,” ran back and forth in my mind, beating against the front of my skull to get to him. I concentrated on the words to keep me from saying them, to keep from doing anything. Rush him and he would stop, and I didn’t want that. Not at all.

D. Her body was crisscrossed by a trail of oil as the guitar pick swiveled in my fingers. She was breathing so fast now, her nipples wet and hard swaying. I put the pick down mercifully and took her bottom lip in my teeth, running my tongue along it. She almost said “David” but stopped after the vowel. I glided my tongue into her mouth for a second, let the tip flick against her tongue, felt her exhale hard over it and let my mouth flip her top lip on the way out. I stood again and pushed my fingers into her hair. Her head pulled back, her mouth opening at the pull of her neck. I pushed my pelvis in closer and ran the tip of my cock along her cheek, down to her chin and against her lips, the precome leaving a trail at the side of her mouth. I let it rest on her bottom lip. Her tongue came out to greet it. I let her head drop a little so he could take in the tip. She licked it in and suckled on it gently.

P. I wanted his whole cock in my mouth so bad, kept working at the tip of it with my lips to pull it into me, but he wouldn’t let me, wouldn’t let it in. His fractured exhales let me know he wanted to, though. I didn’t want to appear too eager and switched to my tongue, to tease him, to make him feel how I felt. I hadn’t worn underwear that day. The air in the room left a cool spot on the wetness that was forming there, probably soiling the carpet with drips. It would be so easy for him to reach under, to feel the edges of my skirt rise up my thighs and his fingers on my slippery clit. He held my head in place by the hair, let me down fully onto him for a second, with a rough inward note on his part and pulled out.

D. I stood back again, a new aching throb in my cock, and reached between her thighs. I made sure my face was close to hers but not touching. Her breath quickened and she squirmed a little, but I stopped until she settled down. I could feel the heat of her before I touched, my fingers teasing the lips. Her head turned as if she were embarrassed of it. I bent her back over her heels and split her knees, lifting the skirt to the top of her thighs. Her stomach tightened and let out. I licked the lips apart, though there was hardly a need, and pressed my tongue down blunt on her clit, the little wrinkles flattening under it. I began to work her clit with my tastebuds, slowly, so slowly, so slowly dragging up and down and she bucked. I backed off and went down again slowly so slowly and she bucked again. I held her hips down and twisted my tongue and slid up one, two, three seconds and a wiggle at the top and back one, two, three seconds, then slightly faster. She strained forward, shy little moans shaking out of her nose. Her body warped and I put my thumb in her. She came, shuddering and puffing. I gave her a moment, but a moment was all I could give.

P. My body buzzed, eyes blurry, pussy aching. He pulled out from my thighs and pushed me forward, all the way down to the floor with my ass in the air. Quick for the first time, I heard his knees bump across the floor, quick, my calves straddled, quick, and in me hard, one, two, three, four, coming, five, moaning, six-seven and he fell over me, pressed his stomach into my hands, gasping sweaty above me. He left my arms tied and my blindfold on, but pushed me to the side onto the floor and wrapped around me, spooned me, until my heart slowed down.

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