Rock And Water - Chapter 4 free porn video

I wake up the next morning with sunlight filtering through the window. The morning air feels chilly, but the bed is warm and comfortable. As I stretch out, I realize I’m alone in the bed. Opening my eyes I see that in fact, I am alone; a note is propped on the nightstand. The note reads that Patrick went for a morning run with the dogs and to pick up some groceries. I look on the floor at my crumpled dress, then at his large black fleece hanging on the door.

His fleece over my naked body feels delicious. I use the bathroom and brush my teeth. My hair is a rumpled mess. Running my fingers through it makes it marginally better, but I’d forgotten to pack a brush, so it will have to do. I patter out to the main room and feel warmth emanating from the wood stove and the smell of coffee thick in the air. A mug sits next to the French press, and I pour myself some coffee. Picking up the bag of beans from a local coffee roaster, I chuckle to myself about us Oregonians and our “locavore” obsession.

I retrieve my phone from my pack, then curl up on the couch soaking in the heat from the wood stove. Checking my messages first to make sure Addie hadn’t called, I see there are only two messages from Johanna; one from last night and again one from this morning. As expected, the first is demanding a call as soon as I’m home from dinner to give her details. The second, from this morning, is a little bit concerned that she hasn’t heard from me, but tempered with the hope that I “got laid.”

I send her a quick text letting her know the date was great and that we stayed overnight at his cabin in the gorge. I let her know I’ll call her later in the evening. I call Addie to hear about her evening painting pottery with her grandparents. She’s painted a Father’s Day mug for Frank along with another penguin for her collection. We make a plan to meet back at the house by five o’clock to make some dinner together, watch a movie and plan our week. I still have one more week of broadcasts before my vacation starts. I regret that it’s during her last week in town, but she’s made plans to spend time with her friends that she’ll be separated from for the whole summer, which in tween time is years. The evenings are ours to spend together until her Saturday red-eye flight.

Addie and I are wrapping up our call as Patrick and the dogs return from their run. I try to stay focused on the call, but I can’t help but stare in lust at the site of him. He’s in his black track pants with a loose dark blue t-shirt. His cheeks are flushed and he’s breathing hard. Sweat stains the front and back of his shirt. He drops his full backpack on to the floor, walks over with his eyes on me, leans down and kisses my forehead before heading over to the kitchen to get some water. The incredibly male smell of woods and sweat lingers, and I close my eyes to just breathe him in. Addie asks who I’m with, and I tell her it’s a friend she doesn’t know. She pauses, but doesn’t push for any more information. For a twelve year old, she’s very intuitive and I suspect she may know I’m with a man. We’ll have to talk this week.

Patrick has turned around and is now leaning against the kitchen counter with his water, watching me with an easy smile. Addie and I exchange “I love you” then hang up. I put the phone down, pick up my coffee and smile back at him. Neither of us speaks for a brief moment as we just take each other in. The only sounds are the dogs noisily lapping up water from their bowls.

Patrick slowly walks towards me. “I don’t think I’ll ever do that fleece justice after seeing it on you….It looks like it was made for you to lounge around in, looking so sexy on my couch.”

Sitting down next to me, he takes my coffee mug out of my hands, placing it on the table before turning back to me. Reaching forward, he unzips the fleece to just below my breasts, spreading it open to expose my flesh to him. The cool air on my nipples, along with his scrutiny causes them to tighten and redden before our eyes. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath through his nose, before parting his lips and breathing out slowly. When his eyes open, they are dark and full of need. He leans forward and takes my right nipple in to his mouth while massaging my left breast in his warm, strong hand.

I let out my own breath in a lusty moan as he continues to suck my nipple and flesh deep in to his warm, wet mouth; his other hand alternating between massaging my left breast occasionally lightly pinching and twisting the nipple. Fiery currents shoot from my chest, heating me to the core in a slow building wave. I arch in to him, never wanting this feeling to end. He moves his mouth to my left breast then begins to nurse it as he had my right. My cunt is swelling and dripping with need. I worry that juices will leak on to his leather couch so I discreetly attempt to pull the fleece lower to cover myself.

He pulls back. “Why are you hiding yourself from me?”

“Um…. I’m getting….turned on; I was worried that I’d stain your couch.” I feel my face redden a little after I admit to this. He sees my blush and his eyes narrow a little as he licks his lower lip. He’s getting off on my embarrassment. With a smile that is both amused and slightly menacing, Patrick suggests that we check the couch and see.

I scoot back on the cushion, and sure enough droplets of my juices have collected on the leather. We both just stare at the glistening fluid, before he traces his forefinger through it and wordlessly brings it to my mouth. I look at him incredulously, only to have his eyes darken to let me know this is not up for discussion. I part my lips and lean forward a little, keeping my eyes on his. His finger enters to the first knuckle; I close my lips around it and begin to suck it clean. I taste myself; sweet, tangy and musky.

Patrick looks at me expectantly, so I continue to suck, moving my head forward to take the entire length of his finger in to my mouth, before pulling back again. He appears pleased by this, adding a second finger but still just holds them there for me to essentially mouth fuck myself on them.

With my tongue and wet mouth I continue to suck and lick his fingers, losing myself in the sensual and submissive act. I know it’s not his cock I’m sucking on, and for some reason this turns me on even more. That I would do this for him; simulating fellatio on his fingers just to please him feels very sexy, naughty, and a bit debasing. It is making me very wet. I position myself on my hands and knees on the couch, feeling my pussy juice leak down my inner thighs. Closing my eyes I continue to suck hard. His fingers when fully drawn in tap on the back of my throat, causing the occasional gag and make my mouth fill with drool.

“I can smell your cunt, Corrine….” My eyes shoot open at that word. It gets in my head and makes me feel very raw. “Is sucking on my fingers getting you even wetter?”

I stop my movements, but hold his fingers in my mouth. This is it. This is where I truly bare myself to him; the depravity I’ve only ever revealed to one other person who was safely three thousand miles away. I have to trust he won’t use this information against me; that he won’t reveal me to my family or the public.

I nod. A little drool slips through my lips onto my chin and his hand as I do.

His words are slow and steady, but his breathing has become more rapid; his body tense. He pulls his fingers from my mouth and wipes them off on my cheeks. “Tell me in your own words. I want to hear you say it.”

I’m not sure how it has come to this when just a few minutes ago I was drinking coffee, talking to Addie on the telephone. How was he able to so quickly bring me to this headspace where I feel I will say or do anything to please him at my own expense? It scares me a little, this power he could have over me.

“Yes, S….” I almost call him Sir, but stop myself. This is something we haven’t discussed, and I’m not sure I’m ready to go there yet. “Sucking on your fingers is making my pussy wet.”

“Did you mean to say your cunt?”

I breathe deeply. “Sucking on your fingers is making my cunt very, very wet. My juices are dripping on my thighs.”

“Let me see. Turn and lean over the back of the couch.” I do as Patrick asks, then feel his hands on the insides of my knees, spreading them to expose my pussy and ass to him. I hear him intake his breath sharply before he quietly adds, “Stay here. Do not move.” Then, without touching me at all, he’s gone and I hear him go in to the bedroom.

My pussy is aching for his touch; swelling and clenching in need. Every other thought is lost to me except my need to be filled by him. Not just his beautiful cock, but by his words; all of them. The words that make me feel cherished. The words that humiliate me. The words that make my pussy drip for him.

I hear Patrick approach me from behind. I don’t know if it’s okay to look back at him and so I don’t. Suddenly he’s standing just behind me with his hands on my hips, pulling me back towards him. My head is now resting on the back of the couch, with my hands on either side. Without words I feel his sheathed cock plunge in to my wet pussy until I feel his hips pressed against the cheeks of my ass. He’s being eerily silent, causing me to feel lost without his voice.

“Patrick….”

“Shhhh…..it’s okay. No words right now.”

This is what he wants. I feel assured and let myself feel the sensation of his large, hard cock filling me. He begins long, slow strokes that drag along the walls of my cunt, sending heat and intense pressure throughout my body. His strokes quicken and become harder. The only thing I can hear is the wet smacking sound each time his pelvis slams in to me and his balls slap against my clit. Except there is noise and it’s coming from me. With each thrust my breath is pushed out of my lungs, causing an uncontrolled “ahhh” to escape me.

My orgasm is so intensely close, but I can’t reach the peak I so desperately need. My body is visibly shaking and I’m clenching the leather tightly in my hands trying to keep myself from begging out loud when I feel his hand slip underneath me and two fingers begin to rapidly rub against my wet and swollen clit. This is all it takes, and I feel electricity explode through every nerve in my body as I buck against him and scream out with my release.

With his hands on my hips Patrick lifts me, pushing me forward until my chest is draped over the back of the couch. He climbs up behind me on his knees, slamming his cock back into me almost to the point of pain. He reaches for my arms and gently but firmly pulls them behind my back, clasping them at the wrist in one hand. The other hand rests heavily on my hip.

It’s clear to me that this is all about him right now. He is taking me; using me for his pleasure. I feel fucked and used in the most primitive way and this fills me with such a deep satisfaction that I can do this for him. His movements become short and jerky before I hear him release a deep groan and collapse over my back. Letting go of my arms, he wraps his around my chest and continues to milk his cock slowly in and out of me. His body is shuddering against me; his breath hot against my ears.

We lay like this in silence for minutes. I feel overly warm with his body against mine, and my shoulders are sore but I don’t say a word. Eventually his softening cock begins to slide from me, and he carefully clasps the base in order to keep the condom on until he is fully out. Removing the condom and tying it off, he uses a napkin left on the table to clean himself before pulling his boxer briefs and track pants back up. I hadn’t realized he was still wearing them.

Patrick sits down on the couch and pulls me on to his lap; my head resting against his chest. My body is racked with trembles and he holds me tight and caresses my head slowly, whispering “Shhh… it’s okay…you’re okay...,” over and over again. We sit quietly like this for a few minutes as my trembling slows, then stops altogether. At times he leans down to kiss the top of my head, or tighten his arms around my body in a comforting squeeze. Despite his efforts to make me feel safe and cherished, I occasionally shudder as a wave of panic rolls through me. I feel exposed, vulnerable, and raw.

“Talk to me,” he requests gently. “Where are you?”

I take a deep breath and remain silent for another minute. He doesn’t push me, giving me time to find my words.

“That was….different.” He cocks his head a little, looking grim as I try to find a way to express what’s turning around in my head. “Everything you did…not being able to see you, to hear you. The way you fucked me; the way you made me come. It all got in to my head and just emptied it out of all the bullshit I carry around day to day.” I sigh and give him a warm smile. “It was incredible.”

Patrick visibly relaxes and briefly closes his eyes before speaking. “I was scared I pushed you too hard, to soon. I didn’t plan that, Corrine. I hadn’t intended to use you so hard at this point. I’m still not sure I should have, but something about seeing you suck my fingers with so much heart just set me off. I would have stopped, you know. If you had asked, I would have in a second. It’s important to me that you know that.”

“I do know that. I feel very safe with you. I just… I just haven’t done this before, in person. It’s so much more…real… for lack of a better word.”

“Oh, it’s going to get more ‘real’ as we go on, but I’m in no hurry to push things faster than you’re ready to go. We’ve got so much to learn about each other, both in and out of the bedroom. It’s going to take time to truly learn to trust each other. You’re going to have to trust me to respect, but sometimes push your softer limits. You’re going to have to trust that I will never take advantage of you or push your hard limits when you’re at your most vulnerable.”

He pauses briefly, and then continues. “I’m going to have to trust you to tell me honestly what turns you on, and what doesn’t. What causes you shame or pain beyond what turns you on. I’ve said it before and you’ll probably hear me say it again. I never want you to pretend with me. I just couldn’t take it…”

It’s obvious open and honest communication is important to him. I’m so glad to have met him at this stage in my life because until now, I wasn’t even being honest with myself. I shift my body until I’m facing him, raising my hand to run it through his hair and down the side of his neck. He closes his eyes and leans in to my hand as I brush my lips against his.

My growling stomach causes us both to look down at it and laugh. He gives me a big bear hug, before lifting me in one motion, depositing me back on the couch and giving me back my now cold coffee.

“Sit tight and I’ll have breakfast for you shortly!”

I go to stand. “Can I help?”

“Absolutely not!” Giving me a wicked smile he says, “I assure you I’ll demand lots of meals from you in the future, woman.” I laugh at that. “Not to mention, you look so gorgeous right now, sitting there with that freshly fucked glow. I need you to stay there until it’s burned into my brain and I can jerk off to the image anytime I want.”

I can feel my face rapidly flush. He gives a laugh. “I told you at the gym I’d make you blush again.” I laugh and cover my face in my hands. That he did.

Breakfast turns out to be some very tasty and decadent Huevos Rancheros with a chorizo on the side and some fresh squeezed orange juice. He’s made some more coffee, and we indulge by adding a little bit of Kahlua.

“Okay. You’re right. This is pretty damned good breakfast.”

He laughs. “I hope you’re duly impressed.”

I assure him that I am, and prove it by cleaning my plate. I insist on clean up duty while he strips the bed and checks the place over since it might be a few weeks before he can make it back here. We take a lazy shower together, exploring each other’s bodies, getting silly, and getting turned on all over again. We take turns licking, sucking, and kissing one another in to a frenzy. With no condom around, we resort to hands, tongues, and mouths to get each other off.

We pack up the dogs and get on the road. The drive home is a little over an hour, giving us time to talk a little more. I tell him about my plan for a “stay-cation” while Addie is gone for the summer. At first he seems disappointed that I won’t be broadcasting any new shows over the summer, until he realizes that my schedule is going to be less restricted and I’ll have more time for him. I go on to tell him about my kitchen remodel plans and ask if he knows the contractor, Pete, who I’ve hired. He does and seems pleased with my choice. He’s quiet for a bit before he asks me about my plans for the cabinets.

“Well, I assumed if Pete didn’t do them himself, that he’d contract out for someone else to do them.”

Patrick looks at me with a broad grin on his face and I see where he’s going with this. Involuntarily I make a scared face and he laughs. “Would that be too weird? For me to do your cabinets? “

My stomach twists a little. Yeah. It might be too weird. “I don’t know Patrick; you know what they say about mixing work with pleasure.”

“I can promise you I’d be nothing but professional. Really. I’d respect whatever boundaries you think we’d need to set up. I’m good at this Corrine, I really am. I’d love to do this for you and I’m sure the boss would give you a screaming rate.” He smiles again.

“Uh uh….” I protest. “Even if I do hire you, and I’m not saying that I am, I will only pay your going rate and nothing less. It wouldn’t feel right otherwise.”

He drops his smile but appears to be thinking about what I’ve said, then nods. “I get that. I’d do the same if I were in your shoes.”

We’re both silent for a little before he adds, “Go to my website this week and look through my portfolio to see if you like the work I do. If you do, I can get you in touch with some references if you’d like.”

I tell him I will, but don’t commit to anything else. I’ll have to think hard about how wise it would be to have him in my house all the time. What if things between us go bad? What if our dynamic turns weird because he’s working for me? All of these thoughts cross my mind as we head back in to the city.

We don’t make any plans to get together until Saturday evening, after I get Addie on her red-eye to Newark before she heads on to Heathrow. We make plans for dinner, then for him to spend the night at my house. He’ll have to get up a little early on Sunday for his day with Luka, so it’ll be easier for me to be at home if I want to sleep in a little.

As we pull up to my house, I oddly begin to feel a little shy. It was only a little over twenty four hours ago that he picked me up, and yet so much has happened between us, so much said. This man that was a stranger to me only three days ago now knows more intimate information about me than those who’ve known me a lifetime. I’m not sure how I feel about this as I just sit there, looking at my hands in my lap.

“Look at me,” he calmly but firmly requests. I do. He brings a hand up and gently rests it on my cheek. “Don’t pull back on me now… Don’t be shy about what’s happened between us. It was beautiful. You’re beautiful. I have so much respect for you, the way you gave yourself to me. I want so much to see more of you…to see where this goes.”

I look in his eyes. They’re warm and sincere. Taking a deep breath and letting it out I do feel better. He seemed to know just what I needed to hear. “I do too…want to see where this goes. If only for the Huevos Rancheros.” With that I jump out of the Bronco leaving him staring at me stunned, before he jumps out too. The dogs follow and recreate their melee on the front lawn. He picks up my pack and walks me to the door. As soon as we’re in the house he drops the pack on the floor, grabs me by my waist and hauls me over to the couch.

Before I know it, Patrick turns me around, leans me over the side of it and gives me two hard smacks on my ass cheeks. I shriek and reach behind me to rub the sting out, but he quickly grabs my hands, holding them snug on my lower back, leaning over me. I’m panting hard. I’ve experienced playful spankings at the hands of college boyfriends, and even took a paddle to my own ass at Robert’s orders on more than one occasion, but the spanks Patrick just gave me took sting to a new level.

He speaks quietly in to my ear. “The first was for being a tease back in the truck. The second was because it felt so damn good to smack your ass the first time that I couldn’t stop at one.” He pulls me up off the couch, turns me around, and before I know it his lips are on me in and our tongues begin a slow and sexy dance with each other.

I know Addie is going to be home shortly, so reluctantly I pull back from the kiss. “I think I’m going to have to kick you out now before Addie sees more than she needs to….”

“Okay. I’m a little bummed that I won’t get to meet her before she leaves, but I understand. Is that her?” He points to a series of pictures of her that range in age from around four years old until just recently, and I nod. “She looks just like you, except for her lighter hair.”

“She’s a good kid. “

We walk towards the door. “I hope you have a great week with Addie. You have no idea how much I look forward to seeing you Saturday night.” I think I do. “Would it be okay to call you during the week?”

“I’d love to hear from you…” I get up on my toes and Patrick leans down for a final kiss before he steps out of the house and I close the door behind him. I plop down on the couch, followed by Griffin who curls up next to me. I give him a hug and tell him to stop teaching Guinness bad habits.

*

Addie comes home and we make our plans for the week, including lots of summer shopping and bad movies. I spend a good deal of time on Sunday evening on the phone with the airlines. I’m a little worried about her flying to London by herself, but have been assured by them that she will have escorts at every gate, and that Frank will be allowed to meet her as soon as she walks off of the airplane at Heathrow. She just rolls her eyes at me, telling me to not be such a worrier.

It was one thing last summer when I was traveling for work while she was with her father, it’s a completely other thing to be here alone in the house for a little over two months. I’ll get to see her in late-July when I fly to London for a four day visit, but other than that I don’t have any travel plans. Hopefully the kitchen project, along with some interior painting I plan to do through the house, will keep me too busy from missing her so much.

I walk in to the gym on Monday morning and the first thing that I see is Patrick speaking with one of the female personal trainers. As soon as he sees me though, a sly smile spreads across his face and he excuses himself, walking towards me.

He pulls me in to a warm embraces and laughs a little. “How’d we not realize at our goodbye yesterday that we’d be seeing each other at the gym all week?” I can see the trainer watching us with her eyes narrowed a little. In the back of my mind I remind myself to ask him later if she’s the one he’d hooked up with.

I whisper in his ear with a little giggle, “I might have been a little distracted by my stinging ass.”

“Laugh now, but you may not find the next spanking quite as amusing….” His voice is calm and steady, but his eyes are lethal, causing a delicious chill to run through my body.

“Oh,” I reply cautiously. “I suppose I’ll just have to behave then.”

He gives me a cocky smile. “You’re assuming spankings are only for punishment; I can assure you that’s not the case.”

My cheeks grow warm as I look around to see if anyone can hear us. My body is all of a sudden aching and on edge.

Patrick once again leans in to me, whispering in my ear. “Mmmmm…. I love when you’re just on the cusp of arousal. I know I could just push a little harder and you’d deny me nothing. Sadly, despite all of the suggestive equipment scattered through the gym, this isn’t the time or place.” He lets out a deep sigh and moves to the water fountain to refill his bottle, leaving me standing there stunned, and yes, aroused.

I follow him over and fill up my bottle too. He asks if I’ve had a chance to see his portfolio yet and I tell him I haven’t, but plan to later. It turns out he’s had a cancellation, and could get started on my cabinets at the end of the month if I’d like him too. I’m warming to the idea, but still have some reservations.

We split up to start our work outs, but whereas before I never noticed him watching me, today I catch him more than once. Each time creates a slow burn inside of me. Eventually I move to the cardio room to use the elliptical, and fifteen minutes in to it I see him come in. He walks past numerous vacant treadmills only to pick the one directly in front of me. With a smile, he jumps on and starts his run; leaving me to stare at his ass for the next twenty-five minutes. Now who’s the tease?

Not wanting to interrupt him during his run, I give him a wave and he nods back as I leave the gym. In the past, I might have felt bummed that he didn’t stop his run to say goodbye, but things feel so easy and understood between us that I’m not feeling any insecurity. It’s a perk of being in our forties, I suppose.

*

My last week of work, along with my time with Addie, goes too fast. Patrick and I run in to each other one more time at the gym, but outside of a kisses hello and goodbye, our interaction was sparse. I did get a chance to look at Patrick’s portfolio and was blown away by his craftsmanship. His skills range from cabinets and furniture, to handmade wood canoes.

He has an ability to match the period and style of each house, but also adds something that makes each piece uniquely his. I even go to the trouble of calling some of his references and they were all glowing, of course. It sounds like he has a good work ethic and finishes projects on time. I can’t deny that I’m very tempted. If we don’t let the money be a big issue, and do our best not to crowd each other, I think this could work. I double check with Pete, my contractor, and he is thrilled. It turns he knows Patrick pretty well, and feels he’d be a good match for the project.

When Patrick calls on Friday evening after Addie is in bed, I tell him that I’d like to hire him for the job. He’s genuinely excited and plans to take some measurements and pictures of my kitchen while over this weekend. We briefly discuss the money which turned out to be easier than I thought it would. I request that we not share with Pete that we’re dating. I just feel like this will help keep safer boundaries in place, along with preventing Pete from feeling uncomfortable if any conflicts arise.

When we’re done talking about the job, Patrick pauses and is silent for a moment before he speaks again. “Are you in bed?”

“Um…. Not really. I’m sitting on it, but still dressed in the clothes I wore today.”

“Get your toys and get naked.” His tone has shifted, and it’s as if a switch goes off in me.

Obediently I strip my clothes off with little grace, and walk to the closet for my bag of toys. As I’m walking back to the bed he adds, “….and Corrine, for this phone call I’d like you to call me Sir.”

This stops me dead in my tracks. I can feel my heart beating wildly in my chest. I feel like I’m about to jump in to a big void; that calling him Sir will change everything that we’ve started, and it’s been so good. I continue to just breathe shallowly in to the phone. He’s waiting for my answer and I can’t speak.

His voice continues, calm and steady. “You do realize that up until now we’ve mostly just engaged in rough sex, don’t you?” I think about this, and it’s true. There certainly has been a bit of “mind fuck” going on, but no outright verbal submission on my part. Isn’t this what I’ve been waiting for?

“Yes….Sir”

He takes a slow, deep breath and lets it out. “Good.”

His approval sends a wave of longing through every nerve.

I hear some shuffling on his side of the phone, then the sound of his boots hitting the floor. “Pull down your covers, lie down, and get comfortable. Hold on a sec…” I can hear more shuffling, including the sound of a zipper. He’s getting naked too and this excites me even more. He gets back on the phone. “You should know ahead of time that I’m not letting you come tonight.”

Shit.

I ask quietly, “will I get to hear you come?’

“I haven’t decided yet.”

We lay there in silence, but I can hear his even, steady breathing. Just knowing he’s on the other side of the phone, naked, is enough for me to start squirming. I don’t dare talk first. The silence feels very deliberate on his part and I don’t want to disappoint him. I’m noticing a trend that he gets quiet before he takes charge.

He starts. “Tell me how you’re lying there.”

I’m a little thrown by the question. “Um… I’m lying on my back, my, uh…shoulders and head are propped on two pillows.” I stop my description to see if this is enough. He remains silent. I let out a deep breath. “My legs are parted….my right foot is on the bed, knee bent and a little, uh…spread. My left leg is bent, lying flat on the bed.”

“So your cunt is exposed.”

“Yes,” I whisper.

His only reply is silence.

“Yes Sir.”

“Better. Okay, tell me what you’ve got there, in detail.”

I feel my cheeks start to burn; my heart flutters a bit. Humiliation starts to choke me as I look at my collection and I don’t know how I’m going to do this. How can I just rattle off my toys to him like it was a grocery list? But he knows this. He knows that the shame is a part of what gets me off.

“I’ve, uh…collected these over the past year…some at Robert’s direction. I’ve got two vibrators, one that’s a standard size, and one that’s pretty….large. Two butt plugs; again, one that’s average sized, the other larger.” This is getting a little easier. I feel like I’m almost in a trance as I list off my secret collection. “I’ve got anal beads, Ben Wa balls, clothespins, and, um….a paddle.”

“Describe the clothespins and the paddle…. How many clothespins? Are they wood? Plastic? Is the paddle wood? Leather? Does it have holes?

His voice is so even keel I feel like I’m being interviewed by an insurance adjustor, not a man who intends to for me to sexually submit to him. “The clips are standard wood clothespins. They came in a box of fifty and….they’re all there.” I hear a little chuckle on the other side of the phone and I cringe. “The paddle is simple. It’s covered in leather. No holes.”

“What are the most clothespins you’ve had on your body at once?” His breathing is getting rough; his voice a bit deeper.

My mind and body are spinning. I want to tell him but I don’t. Like the word “Sir”, once I tell him how far I’ve gone, there’s no going back. Robert pushed me hard sometimes, and I’m not sure I’m ready to go there yet with Patrick.

As if sensing my fear and trepidation, his voice returns to almost normal, and I hear concern. “I have no plans to use them on you tonight… I just want to know. I want you to always be honest with me about your sexuality; about what arouses you. Just hearing you describe your toys to me made my cock so hard for you. I have to admit though, hearing the embarrassment in your voice only made it more so. Submission despite shame is a huge turn on for me….” He pauses before adding, “…and if I’m not mistaken, does a little shame turn you on?”

This seems like a good window to broach this topic of shame. “It…it does. I can’t deny that, but…I don’t want anything too degrading. Nothing, um… in the bathroom please.” I quickly add on “…or in public.”

“I can promise you no bathroom games; not my thing either. As far as public goes, I can promise you I’ll never push for anything that anyone else would be aware of besides us. Can you live with that?’

I let out a deep sigh, feeling relief course through me. “Yes. I can live with that.”

“Okay then… What are the most clothespins you’ve had on your body at one time?”

Oh. He’s not going to let that one slip after all. “Twenty-nine.”

“That’s an odd number…Usually clothespins are used symmetrically on the body. Why the extra pin?”

“My, um… my clit.” Once again my face is on fire.

“Huh…You don’t say.” I can’t believe he’s so casual about this while I’m having an internal freak out on my end. He chuckles a little again. “Robert was a bit of a sadist then, wasn’t he?”

I appreciate that he doesn’t seem to carry any resentment or jealousy towards Robert. If anything, I suspect they’d get along quite well.

As uncomfortable as this conversation has been for me, there’s no denying the physical effect it’s had on my body. It is taking all the will power I have not to run my fingers over my wet and swollen pussy. I can feel a growing wet spot on the sheet below me.

“Alright then, time for some fun. Grab that smaller butt plug, lube it up and go ahead and put it in when you’re ready. Just make sure you describe everything to me.”

While the words themselves sound almost like a suggestion, his tone is anything but. I pick up the cloth bag and dump the contents on to my bed. Finding the smaller of my two plugs, I grab it, apply a little lube, then pick up the phone again.

“I’m lying on my right side, and I have the plug in my left hand; holding it just against my, uh…ring.”

“That’s perfect sweetie, just like that.”

His endearment warms me up and encourages me forward. “I’m pushing…. Oh! I’m pushing it past the ring, pulling it in and out a little as I go.” My breath is coming in short pants now; my pussy aching to be touched. Describing this to him is turning me on like crazy. “I’m also….I’m twisting it side to side a little to help work it in. It’s almost there….” I pause to feel the sensation of my ass getting filled. My tight hole is stretched by the widest part of the plug and I let out a little gasp before it slips in and my ring closes over the small neck. Just the flared handle the base of the plug is nestled between my cheeks. “It’s in….”

“That was beautiful sweetheart, just beautiful…. Relax a moment and feel the plug filling you. Imagine if it was my hand that had pushed it in. One day soon it will be as I prepare you to take my cock inside that sweet, tight ass of yours.”

His voice was thick with lust, causing me to shudder both with need and a little fear. My husband never played with my ass at all, and before him only one or two boyfriends ever used their fingers in me. Robert helped me learn how to accommodate larger and larger plugs over the year, and even had me use my small vibrator at times to fuck my ass with.

“Um….Sir?”

“Yes Corrine?”

“Can I… Can I touch myself? My p… My cunt is so very wet. Please?”

“Thank you for asking, but no, not yet.” His denial turns me on even more, and I’m sure he knows this. Patrick pauses to see if I protest, then continues. “Play with your breasts and nipples. Gentle or hard is fine; whatever feels good to you. Just again, describe what you’re doing.”

I’m holding the phone in my right hand, so can only use my left to play with myself. “I’m fondling my left breast; just, ahhh….cupping it from the underside and giving gentle squeezes. Now I’m using my thumb to rub circles over my nipple which is…getting very hard.”

“Suck on your thumb for a sec and get it wet, then use it on your nipple again.”

At his direction I do so, and my wet nipple contracts even more as the cool night air comes in contact with it. “Ahhh…. That feels so good Sir. Thank you, Sir.” My hand moves to my right breasts and repeats the actions as on the left. Both of my nipples are now almost painfully contracted and tight, sending electric currents straight to my core and clit. I’m finding it hard to lay still and I’m squirming my bottom against the bed in an attempt to push the plug even deeper in to my ass.

“Talk to me…. What are you doing?”

My breath is now irregular pants and I’m finding it harder to talk. All of my focus is on the sensations and aching coming from my lower belly and pussy. “I’m so close….Please. Please Sir, let me fill my cunt for you. Please let me touch myself.” My eyes, that I hadn’t even realized were clenched tight, shoot open as I realize I’m begging.

“I like this side of you… so wet and needy for me. Grab your larger vibrator but don’t turn it on. Just hold it against your tight, moist slit and rub the head slowly up and down. Imagine I’m there and I’m holding my cock doing just that. Teasing you but not entering that beautiful, greedy cunt.”

This is almost too much. The feel of the large head of my vibrator rubbing up and down, dragging against my clit is going to push me over the edge. I can hear Patrick’s breath getting faster and raspier. I can almost hear the rapid, wet sounds of him stroking his cock, and he’s letting out the sexiest short grunts. He almost screams in to the phone, “Push it in, now!”

I push the large vibrator in to my tight, wet pussy and immediately feel the pressure of being stuffed by the two toys. I’m working it in and out rapidly but it’s not enough to push me over. If only he’d let me play with my clit.

“Feel it Corrine…. Feel me using your holes. It’s going to happen. It’s going to happen very soon. His last words are choked off. “Ahhhh….“ He screams out his release in a succession of pants and grunts that go on and on. I continue to work the vibrator in and out, getting so close.

As he recovers his breath, he says, “Okay, sweetie. Take out the vibrator and plug.” What? 

“No! No, Sir…. Please! 

“Now!” He growls.

Chagrined, I do as I’m told, but I’m not happy about it. My body is still screaming with need, and my head is telling me to hang up and finish what I started. It takes a few minutes for my body to calm down. We’re both quiet on the line, until my breathing returns to normal.

He quietly asks, “Did you forget you weren’t allowed to come tonight?”

“Yes,” I reply grumpily.

Again, silence from him.

“Yes, Sir.”

Still silence.

“Sir?”

“I’m here. Those words…from your mouth. It’s been so long. It’s beautiful.” His voice is warm; filled with emotion.

A sense of satisfaction and contentment wash over me. All thoughts of my deprived orgasm have vanished. I’ve pleased him. That’s all that matters.

“You did well, Corrine. I know that was hard for you and I appreciate that you indulged me. With each conversation we have, each small act of submission on your part, we’re learning about one another. I’ve said it before, this is just the beginning. I’m getting a sense of when your walls go up; when you start questioning me. It’s important for me to figure out what breaks down those walls, until there are none at all and I have your complete and total sexual submission.”

A small wave of panic goes through me at those words. I know this is what I want, but the prospect of giving my body and my will to him still scares me.

Patrick pauses, then goes on, “Don’t worry though, I’m not talking about every moment we spend together, even in the bedroom. No doubt there’ll be times we just want to fool around, or be tender with each other. I want all of that too.”

“I do too…. I’m trying Patrick, I’m really trying. I do trust you. Honestly, it amazes me that I do in such a short time span. It’s just so much to take in. I don’t want to… I don’t want to disappoint you with my lack of real, um, in person experience.”

Patrick laughs, and I’m not sure how I should take it. “You have absolutely nothing to worry about. You are so beautifully and naturally submissive that you couldn’t possibly disappoint me. I just don’t want to push too hard too soon and send you running for the hills. I really hope that you’d tell me if I was because this is too important to fuck up.”

I smile at his own anxiety and concerns about us. His honesty and vulnerability are refreshing.

“I would, and I will…. This means a lot to me too.”

He lets out a deep sigh and we discuss our plans for tomorrow evening. Addie’s plane for Newark departs at 9:30pm; with permission from the airline I’m staying in the gate with her until she boards. Since it’ll be too late to do much else, we decide he’ll just come over and maybe watch a movie.

We continue to talk about both inconsequential and at times heavy topics until it’s close to 1am. He’s intelligent, funny, and sexy as hell. I feel like I could talk to him all night, but my eyelids are drooping and my voice is thick with sleep.

“It’s time for sleep my sweet girl.” My body purrs at the warmth in his voice.

“Goodnight Patrick.” I wait to see if he’s ok with my not calling him Sir at this point. It would seem that he is when he quietly says, “Good night Corrine.”

*

Addie and I spend her last day in town walking along the river that cuts the city in half; stopping at a crafts festival to buy some trinkets for her grandparents in London. We go to our favorite taqueria for dinner before we head to the airport. During dinner I tell her I’ve been on a date with a new man, Patrick, and that we seem to mutually like one another and plan to see each other again. She seems genuinely excited for me, but I know she’s a little wary about bringing someone into our lives.

At the airport we’re a jumble of excitement about her trip and anxiety about being apart for the summer, minus my visit in July. As her flight begins to board, I remind her to call me when her flight lands in Newark. She argues that it’ll be the middle of the night for me and I tell her that I don’t care. I hold back my tears until she walks down the jet way and boards her plane. By the time I get home I’m sad and subdued. Patrick and Guinness arrive shortly thereafter and find me in this state.

As soon as the front door closes behind him, he drops two bags on the floor and takes me in his arms. “My poor girl. I can’t imagine how this would feel.” We just stand there holding one another quietly for a few minutes. I appreciate that he’s not trying to distract or console me from my sadness; content just to hold me and allow me to be sad for as long as I need to.

I finally break the hold and give him a small smile. “Thank you for that… I needed it.”

He reaches in to one of the bags and pulls out a bottle of red wine and some dark chocolate. He looks a little sheepish. “I know it looks like I’ve just walked in with a handful of aphrodisiacs, but honestly I just love red wine and chocolate.”

I laugh. “I don’t think you have to worry about seducing me at this point anyway. Consider me seduced.”

He laughs too, and we head into the living room, grabbing a few glass tumblers that look like jelly jars on the way. I decided a long time ago that wine glasses were a pain to wash and always breaking. I still have some for special occasions, but for a quiet night like this, I prefer something that can be loaded into a dishwasher.

After the initial excitement of seeing each other, Griffin and Guinness settle down. Guinness makes himself comfortable on Griffin’s dog bed, while Griffin lies down with a loud thump and an even louder sigh next to it.

Patrick and I sit next to each other on my worn, but comfy dark rose velvet couch. Despite feeling a bit at a loss tonight, it’s nice to have him here and I suddenly have a few butterflies in my stomach. Things feel like they’re moving fast, but I couldn’t imagine any other way at this point. There’s an ease between us that makes it feel like we’ve known one another much longer than just a little over a week. Perhaps it was the mutual stalking at the gym over the past months.

Like the night before on the telephone, we talk about everything under the sun. The Pinot Noir is perfect, and the small bites of dark chocolate are decadent. I like that he’s partial to a little indulgence now and then. I’m definitely seeing the trend of chocolate, and make a mental note to take him to my friend Brian’s studio for a tour. He makes small-batch chocolate from bean to bar and sells it locally. I tell Patrick about this and his eyes light up like a kid on Christmas day.

By the time we finish just one glass of wine, I’m resting my head on his chest and he’s got his arm snug around me, rubbing gentle circles on my back. My hand absentmindedly plays with the hem of his dark green Henley. We stay like this, in silence, for a few minutes. My mind and body are so relaxed that I jump a little when he speaks.

“When we spoke last night and you told me about your collection of toys, you didn’t mention anything about restraints.”

A small chill runs through my body at the thought of being restrained by Patrick. It feels like fear at first, but it courses straight through my core to my pussy which responds with an involuntary spasm. “Oh… I, uh…don’t own any. It didn’t seem like I needed them, on the phone that is.”

“I brought rope with me to bind your arms tonight.” He pauses to let me take in his words. “Years ago I preferred treated hemp…and I plan to buy some soon. I just prefer it aesthetically. For now, I have some rock climbing rope that I no longer use. It’s a pretty soft nylon so I don’t anticipate any burns to your skin, but you’ll have to let me know as we go along. It’s been a while since I’ve tied anyone up, so I may need to adjust and readjust a few times.”

I start to laugh. I’m not sure if it’s out of nervousness, or by the fact that once again he’s talking as if he’s rattling off something he heard on the news today, rather than describing the rope he wants to bind me in.

He smiles warily. “What?”

Still laughing, I choke out, “well, you’re talking as if you were reading me today’s headlines; not like you were about to tie me up in order to…uh…”

“In order to what?” He still has a smile, but it now looks a little menacing.

Still laughing, I somehow answer with his own words from the other day, “to use me as a fuck toy?”

“To start with, yes… Anything else you find amusing?” He seems a bit exasperated with me.

“I think I should stop there before I get in any more trouble.” I’m still holding back a few giggles even at this point. I wipe away some tears that formed and attempt to regain my composure.

“Yes. Perhaps you should….” I can tell he’s teasing, but I’m also beginning to realize I may have stepped over the line a little. His embrace is still soft as he plays gently with my hair, but I can feel a little tension in his body.

He turns me to look at him. His expression is soft, but laced with concern. “I know this is a little new to you, and I can understand that you’re nervous, but how is it I should talk to you as we discuss bondage; about all of this? Should I be standing over you with you on your knees? Should I make my voice low and authoritative and punctuate each word with a slap to your ass?”

I see his point and feel a little embarrassed because I think we both know I’d like just that, but for now it’s a much safer forum to discuss it openly before we head to the bedroom. I feel badly that I couldn’t just hear him out when it’s obvious how important this is to him.

“I’m sorry Patrick… You’re right. It’s better that we talk openly about our, um… kink before we get started. I hope I didn’t kill the mood.”

“No, you didn’t kill the mood, but you will redeem yourself for me.” I’m not sure what he has in mind, but it would seem he has a clear image because I can feel his cock getting hard under my bottom.

I turn around to face him, straddling his lap. I attempt to speak again, but he quiets me. We sit like this for a few minutes, my head on his shoulders; his arms snug around me. Without warning, he effortlessly picks me up and deposits me next to him on the couch.

“Go get the blue duffel bag that I left by the door. When you get back, I do, in fact, want you on your knees in front of me; the bag at your side.” His demeanor has shifted. He’s calm, but there’s a quiet intensity radiating off of his body and it’s like a current that penetrates deep to my core. I go retrieve the bag, noting its heavy weight as I walk with it. When I return, I kneel before him. He remains seated but sits up and looks intently at me.

He goes in to a side pocket of the bag, pulls out a piece of paper and hands it to me. “Please read this carefully. Feel free to ask me any questions if you have them.”

I look it over, and read that his most recent tests from last month show him to be STD free. “Thank you, Patrick.” He smiles and nods.

“Reach into the bag, pull out the rope, then hand it to me.” We both know he could easily have done this himself; that having me retrieve my own bindings was both intentional and necessary to set the tone for what’s to come.

He watches as I pull out varying lengths of rock climbing rope from the bag. Altogether there are five pieces, ranging from three to ten meters. The cord is approximately 9mm and is blue with a yellow zigzag pattern down its length. I hand them to him one by one, then place my arms at my sides. I begin to tremble a little as I kneel there in my shorts and t-shirt, staring straight in front of me because I’m finding it difficult to look at him. He uses his curled index finger under my chin to draw my gaze to his.

“As I was cutting this rope today, my head was spinning with all the ways I could use it on you; picturing you in all sorts of erotic and compromising positions. There was one image I kept coming back to” He picks up the piece that looks to be around five meters.

He gently releases my chin, then says simply, “take off your shirt and bra.”

Despite the order, his voice is warm and filled with compassion. It calms my trembles enough that I can pull my t-shirt of, followed by my simple cotton bra. I expect him to ask for my arms, so I’m surprised when he tells me to raise them above my head.

As I lift my arms, he doubles his cord in two, then reaches behind me, pulling the loose ends through the fold before bringing it around front again. My head shoots up and I look at him in question. I thought he was only going to bind my arms tonight.

“Yes, I’d originally planned to just bind your arms tonight.” He gives me a wink and a wicked little smile. “You’ve inspired me otherwise.”

Oh… This must be the redemption he mentioned.

He continues his work, cinching the rope snuggly. The rope is now wrapped above and below my breasts. I can feel him making some adjustments in the back before the two loose ends of rope are draped over my left shoulder. He moves to kneel behind me, checking his work, then reaches over my shoulder to tuck the rope under the coil below my breasts, twisting it on itself once before pulling it up and over my right shoulder. Again, I can feel him working behind me as he ties the rope to itself just below my shoulder blades.

The final effect is that there is rope below, above, and in between my breasts. I am acutely aware of each coil with each breath, but I am able to breathe without restriction. The compression around the base of my breasts is creating an exquisite pressure that heats them from within. I look down at his work, and witness my breasts standing firm in front of me, bulging a little due to the confines of the rope. As I watch, their color changes hue to a light pink color, while my areolas and nipples tighten and turn a darker crimson.

I don’t even notice when Patrick picks up my t-shirt and pulls it over my head, instructing me to put my arms through the short sleeves. Still in trance at seeing myself in a chest harness I comply without question. I do balk though when he announces it’s time to walk the dogs.

I feel a rush of panic course through me. “I… I can’t go out there like this. This is my neighborhood. hat if…” I can’t finish my thought; horrified at the idea that my neighbors would see me like this.

Patrick hears me out patiently, but still walks over to get the dog’s leashes. “I know this is pushing your limit regarding public exposure, but I don’t think you need to be concerned. It’s late, it’s dark, and most of your neighbors are asleep. If at any time it becomes too much, just tell me and we’ll turn around. No need to even safe word.”

I look down at myself, and note that the dark blue t-shirt is roomy enough that the rope is only perceptible if the shirt pulls tightly against my body. My very firm nipples are another story, but as he said it’s dark and pretty quiet out there along the side streets.

I nod to Patrick that I’m okay to give it a try. I appreciate that he’s given me an out if I need it.

We leash up the dogs and head out in to the night. The early summer evening still has the vestiges of heat from the day, but the air is beginning to cool. Each brush of t-shirt against my nipples causes them to strain against the material, which in turn leads me to inhale sharply. Each deep breath causes the rope to pull snuggly against my skin, creating more pressure in my breasts.

Patrick is casually talking about a house nearby that he worked on, and how much he loves the neighborhood with all of its galleries, coffee shops, and bars. I’m trying to listen, but it’s getting progressively more difficult when it feels like all of the blood has figuratively drained from my brain to my chest.

He steers us up to the avenue he was just discussing, and panic sets in again when I consider the street lights and people traffic we’ll encounter. He stops us just before we get there and turns towards me. “Relax Corrine. Do this for me.”

I look down at my chest. It’s obvious I’m not wearing a bra, but the rope is imperceptible. I look up at him and nod. “Just please don’t make me go in anywhere.”

He smiles. “No worries there. I need to get us both back home soon.” Looking down I can see the effect this walk has had on him too.

Being a Saturday night, the street is lively with patrons heading in and out of bars. More than once we’re stopped so people could pet the dogs. At these times it was all I could do to hold still and hope a breeze didn’t blow against my chest revealing the pattern of rope below the thin material. I’m getting more flushed and turned on by the minute, and as we head back on to the dark residential streets Patrick grabs my waist and crushes our bodies together, claiming my lips with ferocity that steals my breath.

When we pull apart he looks down at me with passion, but also reverence. “That was so fucking hot, sweetheart. Knowing that rope was under your shirt the whole time, for me….” He shakes his head a little, as if he can’t quite believe it himself.

As we continue our walk, he puts his hand on my back directly over the harness. Anyone watching would just see a man with his arm around his girlfriend. Through the material of the t-shirt, he clutches the ropes in his fist and pulls just enough to make me more conscious of each breath. We remain this way until we reach the house and he guides me through the front door.

Despite our need, we take care of the dogs first, making sure water bowls are filled and they’re settled in before we head to the bedroom and close the door. As soon as we do Patrick drops his bags and pushes me against the door with the whole of his body. Leaning down, he gives me a long, lazy sensuous kiss while I press up on my tiptoes trying to deepen the kiss even more. Reaching behind my head, he fists my hair firmly, tilting it back before releasing my lips.

We stand there staring at each other, both breathing heavily; his hand controlling the movement of my head. His wet tongue is absentmindedly running along his lower lip and it’s all I can do to prevent myself from begging him to kiss me again.

“From here on until I say otherwise, call me Sir.”

I attempt to nod, realizing I can’t. “Yes, Sir.” Once again just these words alone cause my pussy to swell and begin to soak my underwear.

“I’m going to push you tonight. No farther than I think you’re ready to go, but there will be some pain.” I notice with those words his eyes growing a little darker, his skin flushing just a little too. “Use your safe words if you need to. Do not hesitate to use them; there will be no disappointment or bad feelings on my part if you do. Tonight is about learning. It’s about trust.”

By this point my body is visibly trembling with need. My breath coming in short pants. “Yes…Sir, I understand. I’ll use my safe words if it feels too much for me to handle, but please, use me; use my body.”

With a growl he embraces me tightly with affection, lifting my feet clear off the ground, but once he puts me down the look in his eyes is all business. He steps back and asks me to strip for him. I do, and we both pause to look at my chest once my t-shirt is removed. Despite the long duration, my breasts have remained the light pink color they had been when he first secured me in the harness. I don’t know much about Shibari, but it would appear he had applied it well to prevent any damage.

“Go retrieve your toys.”

I walk to the closet, and bring out the bag. I shiver with the knowledge that at this time, the contents of the bag are no longer mine to use on myself. These are my toys, my secret. No one besides me has ever seen them, let alone had control of them. Bringing him the bag deepens the exchange of power between us, but as I hand it to him and I see the warmth in his blue eyes, I feel closer to him than ever.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

One by one he pulls out the toys and lays them on my bedside table. Occasionally he stops to scrutinize one, as is the case of the paddle and my large vibrator. He looks at me with a smile as he pulls out the small sack of clothespins, unceremoniously dropping them on the table. I just stand there next to him, naked except for the harness, wide eyed and silent.

“Are you ready to start?”

I quietly nod.

He doesn’t move.

“Yes, Sir.”

He stands and places the blue duffel on the bed. Opening it, he brings out a section of rope. “Sit on the side of the bed; bring your arms out in front of you.”

I do as he asks. It’s at this point that I realize I’m completely naked; though he has yet to remove any of his clothes. This alone makes me feel incredibly sexy. It pushes every other role I have in my life out of my head. Mother. Professional. Friend. Daughter. In this moment it allows me to be his submissive, and only that.

As these thoughts swirl through my head, I don’t realize that he’s coiled the rope five times around each wrist, and has them crossed over each other, bound together. It’s not uncomfortable at all, but very effective and visually stunning. He asks me to pull on them and describe what I feel. When I do, I can feel one of the coils tighten a little uncomfortably around my wrist and tell him so. He releases the entire restraint, checks my wrist for any discoloration, then starts over. This time when I pull, there is only uniform snugness with no biting of the rope. Satisfied, he puts the bag back on the floor.

“You look so beautiful to me; your breasts and arms bound like that. The blue is stunning against your skin. It almost makes me rethink the hemp.” He continues to gaze admiringly at me, and I feel a warm glow starting and my core radiate through me.

“I’d like to decorate you a little more.” He reaches over and grabs the bag of clothespins, pulling out eight of them and placing them next to me on the bed. My mouth drops with a small release of breath, and I can feel my heart rate begin to quicken.

“Go ahead and crawl up on the bed, lie on your back with your arms raised above your head.”

Without question, I do as he asks. He lies down on his side facing me, then runs his left hand from my bound wrists, down my arm, brushing his knuckles across the swell of my breast. Goosebumps follow the trail his fingers just created.

“I know it goes unsaid that you don’t orgasm without permission.”

“Yes, I understand Sir.”

“You are being so very good for me tonight. You have my cock so hard right now. Just thinking about feeling your wet, tight cunt gripping it, skin to skin, has been making me drip pre-cum all night.” His crude words feed something dark inside of me, and all I can think about is using my mouth to open his pants so I suck his cock and pre-cum deep inside of me.

Patrick raises himself up, pulling one leg over me then sits straddling my hips. The feel of his rough khaki shorts against my bare pussy causes me to grind myself in to him, creating a friction against my clit that sends shards of pleasure to course through my body. He looks down at me and raises one eyebrow, enough to still me and I attempt to be more passive despite my aching need.

He leans down and begins to massage, lick, and bite at my breasts; alternating between the two until both nipples are tingling and erect. Taking each clothespin one by one, he carefully places three of them on the soft underside of each breast. The flesh, already more sensitive from the harness, feels the bite of each clip acutely. I begin to squirm and pant, but my wrist restraints and his weight effectively keep me in place.

The pain vacillates between feeling the sharp sting of each individual clip to a generalized ache that radiates deep into my breast and sends electric signals to my empty and aching pussy. I can feel my juices making my lips and inner thighs slick; getting ready for him.

He picks up the final two clothespins, and I attempt to mentally prepare myself for what’s to come. He pinches my right nipple between his thumb and forefinger, then releases the clip over it. An agonized groan releases from my body as it jerks up from the initial pain. Holding me still, he repeats the process with my left nipple.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” I say as if in a trance, until the acute pain is over and just intense pressure remains. I look down at my adorned chest; then up at him. His eyes are dark as they stare at chest, before returni