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We’ve done this before, and I’m always amazed at the way he can twine rope around me in just minutes. He outlines my breasts and frames my hips, and two strands of rope are running between my legs on either side of my clit. “Sadist,” I mutter.
“Keep talking and you’ll pay for it later,” he says, chuckling.
I close my mouth. He wraps me tighter than we’ve done before, binding my arms to my body. And then he sits me down and binds my legs so I’m bent back over them. There’s no way that I can move, and I’ve grown to like the sensation. It’s comforting, and I don’t need to know what comes next. All he could have planned is this and I would enjoy it. I have enjoyed it. One day he tied me up with rope and kept me next to him while he worked, and the tension that was between us as he occasionally looked over and touched me, made the sex after absolutely explosive.
He attaches more rope by my stomach and threads it close to my neck and hips. “Something new,” he says, lifting me off the floor. “Suspension.”
“Really?” My heart rate kicks up a notch. I trust Matthew completely, but the thought of a little rope holding me in the air is still nerve-wracking.
He settles me on the floor again, and the ropes are attached to the suspension rig. “Really,” he says. “You like tight bondage like this, and suspension heightens the feeling of helplessness.” As if to prove his point, he pushes a button and I’m lifted into the air. My stomach lurches, and I sway back and forth. I don’t feel at all like I’m going to fall, but he’s right, that helpless, vulnerable feeling that both calms me and sends me to the edge is right there.
I hear the sounds of him getting undressed, and he appears next to me naked and glorious and already hard. He guides my mouth towards his cock. “The perfect height for this.”
He slides into my mouth with ease, and he steadies me in the air as he guides my cock into my throat. Every morning I suck his cock, and now I not only know what he likes, but I’ve gotten far better about taking his length. I love the sound he makes when I swallow him in my throat, and I do it now just to hear it. It’s somewhere between a growl and a moan and he grips my hair to guide me deeper. “Naughty,” he whispers, and if my mouth wasn’t full of him, I’d grin.
Matthew slowly fucks my mouth and throat, taking his time. He likes to take his time, both to take his pleasure the way he likes it and to show me that I have no control. It works, and I’m already soaking wet. I may be dripping onto the floor. He lifts his balls into my mouth and I suck them the way he likes, hard and slow, using my tongue to swirl back and forth. “Good girl,” he groans, pulling them back. I smile at him, and he reaches down and draws a finger along the line of my necklace. “I like the way that looks on you.”
“I like the way it feels.”
He smirks and spins me around so my pussy is pressed against his cock. “I think you’re going to like the feeling of this more.” His cock plunges in, and I moan. God, I never get tired of the way that first thrust feels. I’m full and perfect and right now with the way the ropes are tight between my legs, he feels even bigger, and each thrust causes delicious friction on my clit.
He stands still, using the ropes to pull me onto his cock, and the rhythmic rocking onto his cock is amazing. He’s using my own body to fuck me, and I can’t do anything about it. Familiar and exquisite heat spreads through me, the thought of my position and predicament always gets me close. And now that I’m hanging, nothing but the ropes he bound me with keeping me from falling, it’s that much stronger.
My breath is coming in short gasps, and I can’t seem to catch my breath. Matthew thrusts again and again and I have to come. “Please Master, may I come?” He likes it when I call him Master. He likes it so much that he’s more likely to let me have an orgasm.
“You may,” he says, grinning.
He pulls me onto his cock, and I go over the edge. It’s a smooth, rippling orgasm that spreads from my pussy to my spine and out, sweet pleasure flaring and fading just as fast. “Thank you, Sir.”
“You’re welcome.”
It feels different now that I’m wearing his collar. More intimate. More perfect. He stops fully inside me, and I moan louder. Suspended and impaled and collared and I don’t think I’ve ever been happier in my life. “I love you, Sir.”
