Silky bondage (part 1)

This is a sequel to Emerging submission.

“Have you ever done this before?” She asks him with just a hint of trepidation.

“Yes,” he responds simply.

She wants to know more details, but isn’t sure how to ask.

They’re in the bedroom. She’s standing next to the bed and he’s rummaging in the bottom drawer of his dresser.

When he gets up and turns to face her, he has some long, silk scarves in his hands.

He glances at her face for a moment and observes her reaction.

She smiles at him, and bites her lip.

We talked about this, she reminded herself silently. I trust him…

Bondage wasn’t something she’s ever done before, not even with soft restraints like scarves. She never met anyone she trusted enough to tie her up. But then, she met him. He was different, she knew this right from the beginning.

Her body, always ready for touch and teasing, was on constant alert when it came to him. He had this quiet confidence about him that appealed to her and incensed her curiosity to a point of no return.

What exactly is he capable of? She kept thinking about this, sometimes at the most inopportune times. They talk, generally about sexual experiences from their pasts, both good and bad ones.

But mostly, she felt the conversations were often one-sided, with her asking and wondering, and with him hinting at skill and know-how.

They introduced the subject of bondage before, but she wasn’t sure if they were actually going to go there. She knew he understood her submissive nature, and she often negotiated with herself how she would react if the moment to discover and experiment with it became a reality.

I trust him, she reminded herself again now, standing in his bedroom and wondering about the next step.

“Take off your clothes,” he suddenly interrupts her thoughts.

Startled, she stares at him. Aware that she’s not wearing much to begin with on this oppressively hot day, stripping for him won’t take long.

She looks at the scarves in his hands and then back at his face.

We’re doing this, she thought. We’re doing it today…

Slowly, she steps out of her shoes, the easiest part to take off. Then, she runs her hands along her hips down toward the hem of her dress and meets his eyes.

He nods slightly and says: “Listen to your body. Allow yourself to feel the sensations.”

He knows I’m nervous, she tells herself as she brings the hem up and lifts the dress over top of her head.

She bites her lip, an annoying habit she’s recently started that has caused her some discomfort. Wondering if she’s going to damage the delicate skin there if she keeps this up, she stops herself. She doesn’t want to be distracted by cracked lips, now that she’s feeling all tingly inside…

Focusing on her body’s reaction, she makes eye contact with him once again. He’s leaning against the dresser, legs crossed at the ankles, looking composed and relaxed. His confident demeanor reassures her and she once again tunes her mind into her body.

She can feel her arousal travel from the surface of her skin, into her chest and nipples, and down the center to her core.

There’s going to be moisture in her panties, she knew, glancing down as if to visually assure herself.

She picked the light grey bra and panties set, the new ones she bought for summer. The soft material felt nice on her skin during the summer’s heat, and the bra, strong enough to hold her C cup sized breasts, gave her the appearance of having a bit of cleavage.

I’m symmetrical for my height and weight, she told herself as she lowered the straps of her bra down her arms. She wonders if there was a graceful way to undress in front of a man that didn’t make it look so practical.

As if reading her thoughts, she felt him approach her. Stopping directly in front of her, he reached his arms around her back, and unclasps her bra. She stares into his eyes as the garment falls to the floor, and he smiles at her while lowering himself along her body, inhaling her scent.

A little impatient, isn’t he, she surmises, focusing on his hands gliding down along her body toward her waist and hips. His touch electrifies her, making her skin tingle even more in anticipation of what’s to come.

His mouth hovers along her body, stopping briefly by her breasts. She willed him to lick her there, on her nipples, but he continues down without the use of his tongue.

He’s teasing me, she ponders as his head travels lower and stops less than an inch in front of her pussy. Watching him from above, she clenches and fidgets a little, yearning for his touch.

Use your tongue, she silently urges him on. Or your hands. Touch me…

But he didn’t. At least not there, where she craves him.

His hands in the meantime remain at her hips, on top of her panties. Glancing up at her, he meets her eyes. Again, she feels reassured, and turned on. She places her own hands on top of his and nods at him.

“Let’s get these off,” she hears him say.

He speaks into her flesh, increasing her tension, and arousal. Despite the cool atmosphere in the room, she feels her body heat up.

She allows his hands to slide her panties off her hip and when they reach her feet, she steps out of them.

She is naked in front of a fully dressed man.

Holding her panties in his hands, he picks up her bra and takes them over to the chair in the corner of the bedroom. She remains standing where she was, in her nudity, anticipating his next move.

When he turns around, she knows before he speaks what he’s going to say.

“Lie on your back on the bed,” he instructs her.

She takes a step toward the bed and sits down at the edge of it. Keeping her legs together, she slides into the middle of the bed until her head reaches one of the pillows located at the headboard.

Knowing that at some point in the very near future she would have to spread her legs wide apart, she half fears, half looks forward to it.

The slight humiliation of letting a man see her most intimate body part, splayed open without shame or embarrassment, was more than a little mortifying at this point. Yet cognitively she knows that this action alone would cause her pussy to weep.

I want to feel things, and this is part of it, she reminds herself again. This is what I wanted…

The slow anticipation of opening herself up to him, to allow him to look at, and devour her, was part of the foreplay she had been missing all this time.

Now was her chance to tune into herself and allow someone whom she trusts to take over her body, and her sexual mindset. This was an exercise in letting go of control. An exercise in sexual submission.

This was her wish. Her desire. And she consented to it, even asked for it, during their many conversations.

She feels anxious about what comes next. She can’t wait for what comes next.

Pulling herself out of her reveries, she forces herself back into the present, and waits for his next move.

He’s there, at the foot of the bed, absorbing her naked body. She watches his eyes; what is he looking at?

Scanning her body’s assets in consecutive order, he begins at the top. Her breasts, accentuated by her erect nipples, contrasts the curves of her waist and hips. Her mound, shaven and free from pubic hair, exposes just a hint of her fleshy lips. The mist, ever increasing between her thighs, is making its wetness felt to her but she doubts he could see it from his position. She knows it would eventually pool on the sheet below her, leaving a wet spot.

She imagines that he is well aware of how wet she is.

The thought makes her smile and relax a little. She knows how hungry he is for wet pussy, how much he desires to taste her.

He takes his time looking at her. She develops goosebumps on her skin from the torturous anticipation.

She longs for his touch.

As if on cue, she suddenly feels his weight on the bed. Kneeling beside her, he takes her right arm into his hands and gently ties a scarf around her wrist. Then, he moves her arm up above her head, and ties it to a part of the headboard.

“How’s that feel,” he asks her as she wiggles her arm around a little.

“It’s fine, not too tight,” she answers him, thankful he gives her a little bit of room to still move it around.

With a swift motion, he straddled her body and takes her other arm into his hands. Staying above her like that, he smiled down at her while tying the second scarf around her other wrist.

She feels her hips involuntarily jolt upward, to meet the weight of his body, but his crotch remains suspended just out of touch.

“Not yet,” he tells her and leans over her to tie her left arm to the headboard.

To be continued…

Silky bondage (part 2)

5 thoughts on “Silky bondage (part 1)

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