It was instinctual in a way. They had never played before.... just talked about it. Incessantly. Each seeking to further tease the other into such a state of frustration that one of them would end the phone conversation by running to the bathroom. And not to pee. His house was familiar territory. What she was entering into was not. But she was comfortable, and it _felt_ natural. He let her in the house and then followed her in, shutting the door behind him.
She did not turn to see where he was. Instead, gracefully she dropped to her knees, rested her bottom on the balls of her feet and crossed her wrists behind her. And closed her eyes. And waited.
It was a full shut down of sorts. She curled into a ball on the rounded chair, tucked her feet under her, threw a blanket over her body, and shut her eyes. In shutting her eyes, she shut the world out.
He understood. He wished there was something more he could
do, but he was as shut out as the rest of the world, despite the closer
relationship between them. It was her way of coping, so he simply
waited. Patiently. Listening until he heard her fall asleep,
then gently picked her up and carried her to bed....pulling the cover
over her and turning out the light.
Yes, I can see your boundaries, as if they were made out of ice.
The picture you show of yourself though them distorted, real, but
unreal. Come closer, move back, I push against those boundaries testing
them for a melting temperature. I want to come in. Will
you let me in? I can feel the boundaries, like crumbling brick.
Your face, full of mixed emotions, the pain and fear so evident and yet
the need equally clear. Please let me in. I promise not to
try to hurt you, I know you've been hurt so many times before. I
just want to get closer, push back against those boundaries you've erected
so that _nobody_ can get in. They're safer, you say, safer to keep
everyone out than to risk the hurt again. I understand....and
I have no wish to push further than you can handle. I just want to
know you, to hold you, to show you that not everyone in the world
is out to cause you pain.
Catching her by surprise, he threw her back against the wall, one hand
behind her head to make sure it didn't hit hard. Then he pressed
up against her, holding her still by a handful of hair. He looked
into her eyes for a moment, and then pulled her hair backwards, exposing
her neck. And started to bite-hard. A low moan escaped her
throat. Out of no where she felt the bite of cold steel near her breasts.
She froze, pushing herself as far back into the wall as possible.
There was a feral look in his eyes. The knife was still pressed against
her, and she barely breathed and he began to run it over her body....inside
of her thighs....her muscles twitched, and she tried to hold still.
He moved up toward her neck again, pinning her against the wall with the
blade, looking again into her eyes.....
There were times that we would just lay together in bed and cuddle. There were candles in the room burning softly and music in the background. Outside we could here the cars and rain and people walking by, but that didn't matter. I would turn and look at him and just look. Cupping his face in my hands and lock eyes. No words were spoken. No words were needed. Just the look, staring in his eyes and trying to speak volumes with my eyes. I'm here. I care. I love you. I will always be here. So many things that I tried to show through my eyes. And I wanted to stare. Just stare at him.....and stare.....
If the eyes are truly the mirror to the soul I was hoping he could
read mine. I wanted to give him part of my soul, because I knew he
was already part of my heart.
Frustration. That's what she was feeling.
The scene had been incredible, knife marks covered her from thighs to neck. Crises-crosses around her thighs, starbursts around her breasts, and initials on her chest and stomach. It turned her on, and she wanted him badly.
Sitting by his side, she began playing with him, making him hard, teasing his member to hardness. Then, without warning he came. Just like that.
Stoically, she got him a towel, and helped wiped him off. He thanked her, put on his clothes and kissed her goodnight. He was out the door before she let it out.
She could easily imagine him in the bed beside her. His
back facing away from her as he settled into sleep. Like a kitten,
she snuggled against him, pressing her cheek and breasts into his back,
curing her legs underneath his thighs. One arm wound over his waist
reaching down to hold his hand. With a pull, she hugged him to her.
He squeezed her hand in responds. Unspoken love, falling asleep to the
sound of each other's breathing.
All of the whips and clothes pins and clamps, a knife and two canes were laid out neatly in order on the table in his room.
"Come see" she ordered, pulling on the chain of his collar. His eyes widened at the display. "I just wanted you to see...." her voice trailed off, just a hint of menace in it. She placed her hands on either side of his face.
"Do you trust me?" she asked, knowing that the cuffs locked behind his back were making him feel vulnerable. She knew how he would answer too, but she just wanted to hear it. And make him say it.
"Yes" he answered seriously, his eyes expressing so many emotions. Love, truest, fear, wonder....
"I will blindfold you now" she stated, covering his eyes and shutting off his vision. Then she lead him over to the bed, and laid him down on his stomach. Unhooking his hands, she recuffed them to hooks attached to the bed above his head. Then she moved away from him.
Wandering over to the toys, she picked up the beaded cat, knowing that it would make the most noise, and started swing it in the empty air. There was an audible whistle, and he could feel the hair on his arms standing on end.
"Or perhaps a paddle first" she spoke, slapping one loudly against her hand. "Or maybe..." He felt a rush of wind by his side, and nearly jumped out of his skin as a heavy flogger hit the bed next to him. He waited for it to hit him, muscles tense in anticipation. Nothing. Silence. He twitched.
Warm oil dripped down his back, and her hands began massaging
his back, shoulders and buns. He could hear the grin in her voice at his
confusion as she said "Oh, by the way, there's no pain in this scene.
You've just been royally mind fucked."
He groaned, rolling over and burying his face in the pillow.
"Come on, sleepy-head, wake up!" she said cheerfully. She pulled the sheets back from his body. He didn't move.
"What time is it?" he muttered into the pillow.
"9:00am, time for breakfast" she replied. He groaned again, hoping she would go away and let him sleep. He heard her get off the bed, and then something soft and cold touched his back. And stroked down to the back of his thighs.
"What's that?" he asked, his voice muffled by the pillows.
"One of the red roses you bought me, love. Happy Valentine's Day."
He watched the dancer, becoming visibly more excited at each undulation of his hips. He moved until he was directly in front of him, watching the muscles of the dancer's chest ripple with his movement. And with a moan, he couldn't stand it any more, grabbing the man by his hips and pulling him into a long passionate kiss.
The dancer's eyes had been closed and they flew open for a moment in
surprise, then closed them again with a sigh and rocked against the other
man. Together they moved in rhythm, pushing hard against each other
as hands moved against the other's body.