Bound for Passion and Orgasmic Sex

Photo Credit: Holly Randall

He lays me on the bed and straddles me. He slowly begins undoing the buttons on my top. I try to help him, but he brushes my hands away. He appears to take his task seriously. Once all of the buttons are undone, he gently raises me upward to remove it from my body. He lays me back down to the pillows gently and touches my cheek. He then slides his hand down my neck, my shoulder and finally to my chest. He touches the fabric of my bra, runs his index finger over the delicate pattern. He seems to be admiring it. My breasts are sensitive to his touch and I want him to hurry, but he takes his time unfastening the clasp. As he pulls the opened bra toward him, lifting my arms, I am very aware of his touch. There is a fan in the room and I feel the cool air breeze over my nipples.

He moves toward my skirt, stopping briefly to gaze at my navel ring. He places his hands between the waistband of the skirt and my skin. He runs them in half circles. I watch as he does this. He finds the zipper and undoes it, but does not remove the clothing. Instead, he moves himself lower, taking his hands down the fabric to the bare skin of my thighs. Then he slides his hands upward. He pulls my panties down to my ankles. He unfastens the straps on my heels and removes them and my undergarment. He parts my legs only slightly. I feel the fan’s breeze subtly flow up my skirt. Instinctively, I bring my knees together. He parts them again. He lays propped up on one elbow for a moment looking at my exposed area. I begin to blush but make no effort to block his view. He gets on all fours and crawls toward me. His hands push the hem of the skirt up to my waist. Lightly, he brushes his knuckles over the small dark patch of curly hair. It tickles and I feel myself grow sensitive. He lowers his head and I hold my breath in anticipation. I see his tongue reaching for me. I feel it. I feel the gentle flick of his tongue against my clitoris and I reach for him. I raise my knees and open myself wider as he circles. He stops.

His face comes toward me and he whispers in my ear. “Get on your knees.” I obey without question. We kneel in front of each other. “Take off my shirt.” he says. I do as I am told. I move to kiss his nipples but he shakes his head and tells me softly, “No.”

He gets off the bed and opens a dresser drawer. He removes something before returning to me. I am wet and in wanting but he makes me wait.

He takes both of my wrists in one of his hands. I see now that he is holding bonds of some sort. He secures my wrists with Velcro fasteners attached to a long cord. He stands on the bed and I can see that he is stiff inside his pants. He ties the cord to a hook on the ceiling that I had never noticed before. Still on my knees, the stretch causes my torso to elongate. He walks around behind me and I see that he has me directly facing the dresser mirror. He kneels. “Watch” he tells me.

He takes two half melted pieces of ice from a glass on the nightstand. He runs them in circles around the swell of my breasts spiraling toward the tips. I lower my head to watch but that causes him to stop. “The mirror” he chides. I obey.

I see as the cubes reach their destination. The fan blows on the chilled flesh and my nipples point. He puts a cube in my mouth and tells me to hold it. I have goose bumps spreading on my body now. He holds my breasts in his hands and massages them, leaving the nipples exposed and untouched. He watches me watching him. I feel the skin of his chest pressing against my back. My nipples are cold, but the rest of my body is warm and tingling. I want to touch him, but am unable. Continuing the massage, he kisses my shoulders, kisses my neck. I want to ask him for more, but have to hold the ice.

He wraps one arm around my waist and moves the other hand to my mouth. He gently parts my lips and retrieves the ice. He rubs his face against my cheek then kisses me. While his mouth is on mine, I feel the ice slide up my skirt and between my thighs. I feel him run it over my privates. It feels cold and I try to move but the arm around my waist holds me secured. He kisses me deeper. Then there is no ice, but his fingers instead. Manipulating my body. I moan into his mouth. I feel the tension in my body. I feel it building. I want it. I want to be taken. I match the intensity of his kiss. My moans become more urgent. He doesn’t stop. I’m nearly there. So close. Just a little more. But he slows. I want to protest. I want to demand he finish me but am too lost in his softening kiss. I trust his hands too much. I’m breathing heavily. He pulls away.

I see my eyes in the mirror and notice their begging expression. I see the curves of my body, the fullness of my breasts, the shade of my nipples. I see him move my skirt downward. I see how my waist curves out to my hips. I feel like art being unveiled. His desire makes me feel invincible and breathtaking. The fire in his eyes ignites me.

I watch as he undoes his pants. I bite my lip as I see him release his erection from its confinement. I want to stroke him. His hands move innocently over himself and I find myself envying those hands. He puts on a condom and moves directly behind me. He pulls my thighs backward and pulls the skirt away. He puts my knees on pillows to raise my body. I cannot bring my hands down for support. I see the movement of my breasts and wish that he would touch them, but he doesn’t. He holds my hips and rubs himself against my moisture. He rocks into me. I feel the beautiful pulse of penetration. I gasp.

“Do you like that?” he asks already knowing my answer.

“Yes.” I pant.

He thrusts again deeper. “And that?” He looks at me in the mirror.

My answer is a moan and he rocks again.

He begins increasing his pace. I see his body moving into mine. I see him watching me. I see his hands gripping into my flesh. I see my breasts bounce with his movements. I can’t tear my eyes away.

He moves faster. I see beads of sweat form and fall. My hair falls forward. I can’t move it away. I use my breath to try to blow it. He notices and moves it for me.

His hands find my breasts. He kneads them as he pounds. I’m feeling exhausted and dizzy. I feel his breath, hear his sounds. I call his name. He answers with the pace of his body. I get closer.

I see his muscles flexing in anticipation. I feel my whole body tense. My hands reach upward to grasp the cord. My grip is tight as though I would climb if I could. My knees are grounded into the pillows. I want to scream in ecstasy but my voice is lost to me. His eyes seem to haze over. My face washes with color and the peak is reached. My entire body is racked with trembling as I climax. I feel myself flush over him. I feel his body lean against mine for support. His pace is slowed and he has cum.

It was like watching gods surrender.

Evelyn Wilde

Evelyn Wilde

Join me as we embark on a journey through my sexual fantasies and experience the wonderful world of erotica through my stories. You won't be disappointed.