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The kiss goes on for some time, both of us exploring each others lips and using our tongues to feel our way around each others’ mouths. There’s an innocence to it, something that seeks to give and never, ever take away.
I feel like I might cry, and I’m so embarrassed I struggle away, scooting back on the cushions. Helen looks surprised, but not hurt.
“Are you okay?” She asks me. It’s one of the very few times in my life that anyone has asked me that.
I nod slowly. “I’m okay.”
She smiles. “I know. It’s pretty intense, isn’t it?”
I look up into her eyes, letting myself feel that connection between us but not trying to examine it at all. I don’t want this to end.
“Roxy.” Her voice sighs out in a whisper and I’m about to hurl myself across the distance between us and devour her when she leans over to whisper in my ear.
“Would you let me tie you?”
Tension streaks through me. Fear is my initial reaction and why wouldn’t it be? Being tied is a huge act of trust. You put your life in the hands of another. People can say ‘it’s not that bad’ or ‘you’re taking this too seriously’ but guess what.
They are assholes.
“No sex.” Helen says softly. “Not even naked if you don’t want to be. I don’t think I’m ready for sex yet. But I would love to tie a design on you… Would you let me?”
I want to say no. I want to say, lets just go to bed. But I can’t run from this. If I do it will hurt us both and probably damage the connection we have only just made.
Besides. I’m known for my bad decisions. If it’s a stupid fucking idea, you can trust Roxy to jump right on in.
Really, it’s the only way to keep your life action packed. I’m coming to understand that maybe I don’t want an action-packed life. This tie probably won’t be high on the scale of action, anyway.
But exciting, enticing, luscious, wonderful… It could be all of those things, especially if Helen is an experienced rope caster. From the way she’s looking at me, I think she might be.
I just say the only thing there is to say.
“Yes.”
Seventeen
Helen
I’m shocked when Roxy says yes.
I know I’m rushing things. Rope art is so very intimate. It binds the participants in a sacred trust. I know all of this, but the only thing I can think right now is how gorgeous Roxy would look in a rope.
Part of me was hoping she would say no.
She smiles and kisses me, and I push against her shoulders, kissing her back. I’ve never encountered anything as exciting as this strange girl I literally plucked from the gutter.
Who doesn’t love a good Cinderella story?
Everyone who thinks fairy tales are fake. I used to be that person. I don’t know who the fuck I am today.
Roxy pulls back a little and I go to get my rope. The few lamps that light the apartment cast shadows that are warm instead of threatening. I get to my room and rummage through my secret chest.
I used to keep it locked, even here at the foot of my bed. I live alone, I don’t often have visitors and none of my family or friends would ever come in here.
Still. I kept it locked with a massive cast iron padlock and hid the key in the ceiling. I was that fucking paranoid that someone would find my gear.
I run my fingers over the chains, whips and cuffs. For me it’s more the suggestion, the anticipation that is the turn on. I don’t want to get hurt and I certainly don’t want to hurt anyone. But a little danger makes the sex so much sweeter, especially if you know that you’re completely safe the whole time.
I choose a dark purple rope, made of cotton and satin thread. It’s very soft and easy to use, slightly slippery. No matter how tight you make the knots, rope like this will come undone under a bit of force. It’s not for rigging or for bondage, it’s for show.
