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She clenched and shuddered with hot, helpless pleasure, almost but not quite an orgasm. So close to release… She raised her hips, curving her pelvis up, and opened her legs. “Please touch me.” Her voice sounded alien, throaty and needy.
Dan shook his head. “Not yet. Not until I get you home.” Holding her bound wrists, he kissed her on the forehead. That soft, almost chaste caress provoked another fiery wave, another near-orgasm.
The drive home took only fifteen minutes, but for Jessie it might have been fifteen seconds or fifteen hours. She stared at her hands, squirmed against the colorful fabric connecting them, not to free herself but to be sure she couldn’t. The quick tie allowed play between her hands—she thought she could loosen the knot if she had to—but she wasn’t going anywhere without an effort she didn’t want to make. Soft, sensuous, secure, the scarves held not just her hands but her whole body and some portion of her soul.
When they reached the condo building, Jessie assumed Dan would untie her hands until they were safely inside. Instead, he left her to cross the parking lot and go into their townhouse with her hands tied in front of her. She couldn’t help imagining someone running into them in the parking lot: Jan Feldman the librarian, or the retired minister from 6B, or better/worse yet, the hot young black guy, the new basketball coach at the college, who’d moved in next door a few months ago. No one was around, as it turned out, but the thought of being caught in bondage turned her on so much she was staggering by the time they got in the door.
Dan placed her hands on his crotch. Hot, hard, straining against his jeans, his cock seemed as captive as her hands. “You’re not the only one,” he said. “I’ve been like this on and off all night. I feel like a teenager.”
“But unlike a teenager, you know what to do with that hard-on.”
“Yeah. I do. Bedroom, now.”
He didn’t need to say it twice.
As he untied the knot that fastened her hands together, Dan’s hands seemed more awkward than they had before, as if arousal was making him clumsy. Jessie moved to undress, but Dan shook his head. “Let me.” His voice was deeper and harsher than usual—more erotic, even though she loved his normal voice.
She could definitely get used to this, at least in the bedroom. Impatient, though, she was glad she’d opted for a simple T-shirt and skirt, and a front-clasp bra, making the whole process faster.
Wearing only her drenched panties, she lay down on the bed. Her breathing was irregular and she couldn’t seem to control it. Her heart was racing and that fast pulse beat in her clit as Dan drew her panties over her hips and down her legs. She opened her legs, begging with her body because she couldn’t seem to form words. “Not yet,” Dan soothed.
No, of course not yet, not until he tied her hands to the brass headboard.
The scarves weren’t long. She doubted he could make a completely secure knot. But once Jessie’s hands were stretched over her head and tied, she felt as effectively immobilized as if he’d locked her in place with steel. Steel: there was that image again, of steel cuffs and a steel collar.
Language seemed far away, but Jessie made herself speak. “I keep imagining metal cuffs and a collar. And maybe a spreader bar or something, like we saw on that website.”
Dan’s laugh came from his cock. “Hot image, but I like knowing I get us both to this state without anything that fancy. Spread your legs, Jessie. I don’t feel like looking for more scarves, so I want you to imagine I’ve tied your ankles to the bedposts. Don’t move until I tell you to.” Her legs were already open. How could they not be, excited as she was, hot as she was for Dan’s touch, his tongue, his cock? She spread them wider and imagined them forced open, locked in place, soft, body-warmed silk on her ankles or even cold steel. “You just got wetter,” Dan said, and she nodded. He ran two fingers over her slick, swollen lips, making her mewl with need, then brought them to her mouth.
She sucked eagerly, tasting herself, imagining Dan’s cock in her mouth, basted with her juices. From the noises Dan was making, he was imagining the same thing.
When he withdrew his fingers, long after they were clean, she raised her head, trying to follow, but she could only go so far with her hands tied to the bed frame, her legs free, but effectively bound. Dan chuckled.
Then he began to strip, slowly and teasingly.
Jessie always appreciated Dan’s body, but now, unable to touch, she looked at him in a new way, seeing the play of muscles under his skin, the dusky color of his tight nipples, the faded scar on his thigh from a childhood mishap, the slight curve to his straining cock and the way it rose so strongly out of its nest of pubic hair.
Unable to move more, she undulated on the bed. A noise came out of her throat, halfway between a purr and a growl. She couldn’t remember the last time she was this turned on, this needy—and Dan wasn’t even touching her, except through the silk ties on her wrists. She clenched and unclenched her fists, wanting to beg but unable to remember how.
Finally, naked and erect, Dan lay over her. His hot mouth closed over her nipple as his cock teased at her clit. Ripples of sensation ranged from her breast and her sex, meeting, she thought dimly, somewhere around her heart and filling that, too, with heat and need. She bent one knee, pushed up against the teasing, tempting hardness of his cock. “Not yet,” he said, his mouth still full of her nipple, and pushed her thigh until she straightened her knee again.
He suckled at her until her head swam, brushed at her clit and the opening of her cunt until she was squirming and begging in a language that predated English by millennia, something so primal she figured a caveman would understand it—although he might do exactly what Dan was doing and pretend not to hear it.
When she reached the point that her attempts at speech degenerated into laughing and sobbing simultaneously, Dan poised his cock inside her pussy. He pushed in just enough to let her know how empty she was and remind her how well he could fill her. She tried to raise her hips, but there was only so far she could get without moving her legs and she couldn’t move her legs. She could feel the restraints on her ankles, almost as real as the silk around her wrists. But she needed… she needed.
She couldn’t plead, couldn’t touch the man who teased her, couldn’t do anything but receive the tormenting pleasure. She was a prisoner, and she couldn’t remember why she might want not to be one. Waves of sensation crashed over her, dizzying, tormenting, magical.
Dan thrust deep into her. “Now,” he roared, “now!”
She shattered, sobbing, into a million pieces. Dan’s weight, his heat and the rhythm of his cock driving into her kept pushing her higher and higher, but the silk kept her safe, kept her from flying away altogether, and getting lost.
“Your legs are free, love,” he said, his voice sounding almost as shattered by lust as he felt. “I want to feel them around me.” So she slinked one leg over Dan’s hips and bent the other so she could push against him, meeting thrust with thrust. The movement tugged at the silk ties at her wrists, and that in turn tugged at her clit. She convulsed again, screaming Dan’s name. Her cunt tightened, clasped at him.
Dan started to say something, but it came out as a wild roar. He thrust harder, deeper, three more times, then collapsed. “Sorry,” he grunted. “A little quick.”
“Silly man,” she whispered into his hair, surprised she could talk even that much. “Hard and fast was perfect.”
With his last bit of focus, Dan untied her wrists from the bedpost. When he went to unwrap the scarves from around her wrists, though, Jessie just shook her head and said, “Leave them.”
