Texture Tease

Your hands gentle on my skin, so tender and almost timing in their ministers. Stroking my arm, the back of my hand, fingers briefly entwined with mine, squeeze to reassure me, or perhaps you, and then moving on. Your fingers stroke my throat, the back of my neck, the shell of my ear. You move around me, gaining confidence while I quietly watch you. Your hands continue their journey on my body, lightly caresing my belly, barely struggling the skin of my thighs, smoothing down my calves to my ankles and one after the other you wind the soft strong silk around my ankles and I am bound to the antique iron bedstead.

You have been planning this, wanting this, waiting for this for so long, I can hear the increase in your breath as your arousal starts to grow. From the first time you saw the old bed frame hidden away in the attic, you have dreamed and planned for this day. The frame restored to glaiming black beauty, its brass decorations shining mirror bright, and my pale form laidout for you on the soft bed lines.

The cotton sheets warm under my back as my own arousal emerges to meet yours and the only sound in the room is our breath and the soft sound of silk against skin as you tie the last knot.

You have set up a tray out of my line of sight and on it are objects you have spent weeks thinking of and gathering together. Already you have brushed the silk as soft as a sight against my skin. There is a fear rustling sound and the next thing I feel on my ankle, moving up my leg and inside my thigh is the sensitive softness of velvet, running then over my breasts, my shoulders and back once again to my thighs, teasing the sensitive skin there. Barely brushing my body, you trace my curves with the material, the plus velvet molding to the underside of my breasts, the swell of my hips, the back of my knee where you reach under me to tease.

Recent of the rustling and I smell the warm supplement scent of new leather. Your hands are firmer in their exploretion this time, palms and fingers snug in dark leather gloves. You massage your way from my feet to my hips, lifting each of my legs as far as the bonds allow to stroke the back of my knee, the curve of my calves, tease against the swell of my cheek. You avoid at first the juncture of my thighs, my nipples, touching every other inch of my skin until I want to arch into your touch, but know I cannot. A smile plays at your lips the whole time. The smallest sound escapes my throat as your fingers brush my hardened nipples, your palm taking possession at last of my breast, gently, firmly, finally. You pull the small bud of a nipple with leather clad finger and thumb, then stroke fingers around and around my breast, kneeing and massaging. Your palms travel down my ribs, across my quivering stomach to my now very sensitive labia, throbbing clip and wet waiting flesh.

I am entirely surprised when you loop a length of silk under my knee and begin to tie more knots. My knees are opened for you, held still by soft silk and the darkening of desire in your eyes. I gasp as your hands, still leather covered, begin to explore. Your hands have always brought me to the broke of orgasm, and pushed me over more than once. This new sensing, your familiar fingers and unfamiliar texture of leather, is a combination I have no immunity to. Your palm cups my bare flesh, fingers sliding inside and back out smoothly and increasingly quickly, building heat inside me, melting me into your hands.

You lean down to my ear and begin to whisper, knowing that the feel of your breath, the rasp of your low voice against my ear is the last straw and I am unstrung. You bring me again and again to the edge of climax, letting me fall back only a moment before starting again to build to the peak again, maddening and thrilling and your hands on me, in me and your voice leading me on and on towards a final fall to gasping orgasm.

Your hands bare again and silk unwound from my ankles and wrists, you lay next to me, your skin a delicious texture on mine, and your mouth is warm on mine, your hands again demanding, this time turning me over to you, guiding my hips over yours and this time we both fall together down the dark abyss we create in one another.