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By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago
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Writhing. It's an over used word, but it would be the most accurate one to describe how he made me feel. Not so much writhing with pain, not so much writhing with pleasure. Rather, a complex, creative mix of the both leading me into the state I found myself. A state that left far too much of my body exposed on the red leather, hands gripping the steel frame, trying not to slide away.
Others faded into the distance as I focussed on the solidity beneath me, quivering at the uncertainty above. New and exciting and ever so slightly unpredictable caresses of skin, teeth, leather mingling with the jangle of my favourite toy. Each sharp spike making its presence known as it was wheeled around my curves, leaving me breathless and tingling.
His slow but steady grip, lifted my head upwards, our eyes meeting as I stretched out for him. Two predators testing, both confident in their abilities and strengths, both equally aware of the thrill, of the danger. I imagined his hand around my throat and his nails slid down to dig into my skin, eliciting a deep groan.
Did he read me? Did he know that I had to restrain myself.
Fear of pushing him further than he could go holding me there, frozen. Concern for his well-being as I reacted in equal parts to the desire and need in his eyes, fuelling the darker needs in mine. Craving that which I recognised in him - ferocious and feral wrapped up in soft fur and sweet sounds. Not merely pain but a game of hunting and teasing, pushing those boundaries of what can be taken and what would be that step just too far. Just one small push. A tiny tipping of the scales. A kiss. A bite. Daring, one or the other temptingly unhooks the leash until fear of consumation locks them tightly once more to their separate tethers.
My head is released but I am not still. Hips unable to contain the energy within. I still writhe until withdrawal of touch draws me outward, awareness returning. Hemline once more pulled sociably down to ankles. Fingers flexing and muscles welcoming the return of normality as I move alone. The world and random comments on biscuits bringing me down to earth with a bang.
I am sweet, I am sensible.
I do not writhe, exposed, wet or panting.
I am self-contained and in control.
Until next time.
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Wonderful story telling as always
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