We step out of the restaurant into the summer evening air. It is humid, and begins to rain. It is the sort of weather that precedes a heavy storm. Gusts of wind cause your dress to furl up and sway, and occasional large, heavy, droplets fall from the darkening sky on to your soft cheeses.
I hail a taxi and we step in. We sit almost in silence during the journey home. The exhilarating experience in the Restaurant has tired me a little; the thrill of seeing how far you would take your display. But as I gaze from the taxi window, my thoughts turn to later tonight, and the preparations I have made.
The rain is now falling torrentially as the taxi pulls up to your house. I pay the driver, and we run to the front door, both getting soaked through in the short dash. You unlock it hurriedly, and we step into the Welcome warmth and dryness of the hallway, the latch making a satisfying click as the door shuts behind us.
I slip the damp coat from your shoulders, and hang itup with my own. You pass me a towel, and I dry myself off. You step upstairs to take a shower. I walk into the lounge, pour myself a glass of red wine, and contemplate the evening so far. I was impressed by how far you had taken my proposition of only last week: that we go to a restaurant, where you would wear a revealing dress of my choosing and sit at a table I had selected, all with the purpose of allowing staff and clientele a ‘full view’. That you should allow me to ‘accidently’ brush your nipples with my hands and follow my instructions to bend forward at opportunity moments had thrilled me greatly. And the almost full exposure of your breast at the end of the evening left me speechless (not to say fully erect). It was exciting. I had only met you a week ago – yet here you were, carrying out every word. How far would you go to serve me?
I finish my wine, and decide it is time to find some more answers to that question. I walk up the stairs and towards the bathroom door, whichYou had left unlocked. The bathroom is filled with steam, and I can barely see. The noise of the shower and dense white vapour disguise my entrance. I slip my hand around the shower curve and on to your ass. You stop still for an instant in surprise, then continue to mop yourself with the sponge, rubbing it down your thighs and over your belly. I run my hand over your buttocks, the soap helping it glide over their smooth surfaces. I pull the shower curve away, leaving you fully naked to my view, water gliding over your skin. I pull up a chair and sit and watch you. I watch the streams of warm water run over the curves of your body, and find myself wanting to be those rivulets of water clinging to you and flowing over your soft, voluptuous form. I want to own you, control you, use you.
I stand up from the chair and turn the temperature of the shower down as low as it will go. The comfortable warmth is replaced by the shock of painfully cold water on your skin. I look you sternly in the eyes. You look uncomfortable, yet don’t complain. I tell you to face the freezing stream of water and allow it to strike you at the top of your chest. Your nipples, still aroused from the restaurant, becomes long and stiff under the cold flow of water. I turn off the shower, leaving you cold and shivering. I instruct you to get out of the shower, and walk towards me, where I greet you with a large warm towel taken from the radiator. I wrap it around you and dry you slowly.
I lead you into the bedroom. At the side of the bed is a wooden construction made of wooden poles and horizontal beams, in the middle of which is a black leather seat. I pull the towel from you. “Sit” I command. You crouch tenatively on the seat, your ass making direct contact with the cold black leather, and I bind your ankles and knees to the Wooden frame with coarse rope. I bind your wrists behind your back, so your chest is forced forward and your full breasts sit over a thin wooden pole, raisingThey slightly. I take each of your full breasts in my hands, and bind them to the vertical supporters of the wooden frame …
The binds are tight around each breast, and rub coarsely against your skin as you try to get comfortable in this exotic contraction. There is some faded Japanese writing on one of the posts, and notches where the wood has been wound away by rope rubbing against it. I administrator the same treatment to each breast in turn: holding it from below with one hand, and massaging it with the other, leaving both soft and plumant. Then, I spank each breast vigorously, the full palm of my hand slapping down hard onto the quivering flesh. First the left, then the right, leaving both glowing a deep angle red, and the nipples a brightening pink. You know you are not to express pain or pleasure whilst you play this role. You Must simply give your body up to me. You appear to catch yourself and maintain your placid expression. But watching you try to control yourself pleasuresme enormously …
Beside the bed is a bowl, a bottle of oil, and a pack of cotton wool balls. I pour half the bottle into the bowl, dip the cotton balls into the oil, and dab them gently over your nipples, softening them a little, although they retain their surprisely full length. They become rubbery to touch and spring back proudly when I mass them into your breasts with my fingers. I roll one nipple between thumb and forefinger, whilst I continue the soft strokes of the heavily doubled cotton wool balls on the other. Oil drops from your nipples and your areola expand greatly in size. I lick over your right nipple with my tongue, imagining how my wet tongue slipping over your already lubricated nipple must feel. I sense your whole body tighten up, and I smile a little. I begin to lick more quickly, and then begin to suck, feeling your nipple enlarge further. Not gently, but full deep sucks, taking it in deep, feeling it’s length rub across the top of mouth and the oil spill over my cheats. I wide my mouth to take in as much flesh as possible, breaking quickly for air and then renewing my hard sucks, my tongue lapping under the weight of your full breast.
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