2 comments/ 11009 views/ 3 favorites Tease Ch. 01 By: AphroditeReborn edited by BrettJ -- THANK YOU! This story is dedicated to my favorite txnstud ~kiss~ our PM's inspired this story "Honey?" Thomas walked through the door of the apartment and laid his keys on the side table. No one answered his call. "Chrissie?" he called out again as he sifted though the mail. Silence engulfed his home. Today is Tuesday, he thought. I know she's off work today. Maybe she's at the store. Thomas walked down the entrance hall and towards the living room. The apartment was spotless, as usual, but there was a different scent filling his nostrils than the normal Pine Sol. It was vanilla. He noticed the lit candle on the coffee table as well as the cream colored stationary paper next to it. He walked slowly, feeling the dread build inside of him. He just knew it was a "Dear John" letter. He and Chrissie had been living together for nearly two years, but lately had fallen into a rut. They never went anywhere together anymore. Their friends all had families of their own now. Most nights they would eat dinner and sit on the couch watching television until the nightly news was over at 11:30 and then head to bed. She would dress in one of his old tee shirts and he in his boxers. Their lovemaking had even been reduced to two nights a week... Wednesdays and Saturdays... without fail. He had seen the signs, but had not known what to do to bring back the spark to their relationship. He had wooed her with flowers and gifts in the beginning of their relationship, but she had always said how she wasn't materialistic. He wasn't the romantic type with poetry and songs. But he did love her. He just needed to find a way to express that. Now it was over. She had left him. He would just have to win her back. The decision was made before he knew it. He would do anything to get her back into his life. He picked up the cream colored sheet of paper with trembling hands and read: My dearest love: I don't want to live like this anymore. We are in a rut and we need to move on. I need more. And you need more. I have taken matters into my own hands and for once I ask that you just not argue and humor me please. Go into the bedroom with your eyes closed. Don't say a word and I will explain all when you get there. He raised his eyebrow and glanced down the hallway towards the bedroom. The door was closed but he could now hear faint music coming from it. It was soft and seductive. It sounded like Barry White. He smiled as he dropped the letter back onto the coffee table and went down the hall to the bedroom. He knocked on the door before turning the knob to alert her although she probably already knew he was home. "Are your eyes closed?" she demanded with a seductive purr. He shut them immediately and opened the door wide. Chrissie stared at the man she loved more than life itself with his silly grin and his eyes tightly shut. He was still in his suit from the office and even though he had not a clue as to what was about to happen, he was a willing participant, she could tell that. She walked over to him and as she stood up on her tiptoes to kiss him very lightly on the lips, her voice was low and husky. "I'm going to tease you tonight," she purred. "I am going to blindfold you so that you can't see until I am ready. OK?" Thomas nodded. She slipped the black silk scarf around his eyes and knotted it behind his head. His breathing sped up a little as his sight was lost. His other senses heightened. He could smell the vanilla candles and even though he couldn't see, their scent was so intoxicating that he knew they were spread throughout the bedroom. Several were on each nightstand. More on each dresser. He could imagine she'd filled their candelabra with seven little candles. He could hear the sexy music in the background. No longer the deep mellow tones of Barry White, but now a faster, seductive beat of Britney Spears' "Hit Me Baby One More Time". Chrissie began to undress him. First she shrugged off his suit jacket and he heard her walk to the closet to hang it up. She bent to the floor and slipped off his loafers. They clunked in the closet as a pair. She loosened his tie and he brought his arms up to touch her silk-covered arms. "No touching," she admonished him. Thomas grinned even bigger and let his arms fall to his sides, letting her work her own magic on him. She unbuttoned his shirt and splayed her hands over his chest, lightly covered with course brown hairs. Chrissie's fingertips explored his chest and her manicured nails flicked his flat disks. Thomas grew in a sharp breath at the tightening of his nipples. Damn, she's good. He felt her tongue roll around a peaked nub and his breathing got shallower. She moved her fingers down to his belt, quickly undoing the clasp as light kisses continually moved over his chest. She slid the belt out of his pants and he heard the small buckle tinkle to the floor. Her ministrations continued as she unzipped his pants, allowing his now strained cock more room to grow. He forced his hands to remain at his sides, though he longed to touch her. Her mouth moved lower across his stomach as she bent to take off his pants, one leg at a time. He helped her by stepping out of them and stepping on his sock toes at the same time to leave him barefoot. He now stood before her in only his blue silk boxers. Chrissie gently took his hand and let him to a chair. It was one from the kitchen table placed directly in front of her dresser, facing towards the bed. She made him sit being gently observant of his erection so that he was not uncomfortable. He sat, waiting, until he felt her return and ran a scrap of silk along his jaw line, down his chest and then along his right arm. "Do you trust me, Thomas?" she asked quietly. He found his voice, barely, and replied. "With my life. With my soul, Honey. You should know that." Her felt her long blonde hair brush his chest as she nodded and then slipped the silk cloth around his right wrist. He chuckled, "What are you doing, Minx?" She whispered, "No talking. Trust me. Let me be in control for once, Thomas. Let me love you in ways I've always wanted to." His cock twitched at her words. How could a woman so beautiful entrance him with mere words and soft touches? She had cast a spell on him for certain. He allowed her to tie the other end of the silk cloth, which he now recognized as his tie, around his left wrist so that his hands were now behind his back and tied to the chair. Chrissie stepped back to admire her work. Thomas was indeed trussed up like a Christmas goose. His cock was straining to be released from his boxers and she thought she saw the head of it poking through the front slit. His breathing was steady and slow and he was still grinning like a Cheshire cat. She looked around at the candle-lit room and nodded to herself. He would be able to see very well once she removed the blindfold. Thomas waited and waited for what seemed like several minutes, but he knew it was only a few seconds. The waiting was nearly unbearable. What was she going to do to him while he was tied? His cock was throbbing as he awaited her next action. Chrissie swiftly removed the blindfold and he blinked his eyes to the blinding light. He had envisioned a few candles here and there in their bedroom, but the actual amount was astonishing. Six medium candles were placed on each nightstand flanking their king-sized bed. On his tall boy dresser was the candelabra, but also several more glass jarred candles. He could feel behind him on her dresser the slight heat from at least a dozen more. He turned his head to the right and noticed a matching candelabra. She must have ordered it from online. The one on his dresser they had bought in Atlanta on their first real vacation a year ago. How long has she been planning this? he wondered. His eyes focused on his woman. His. Woman. At that moment in time he knew they would be together forever. She was wearing a champagne colored blouse with a red flared skirt that came barely above her knee. Her long blonde hair was loose and curled gently around her face, framing it to enhance an angel's smile... exactly as he knew her to be.... his Angel. Her crystal clear blue eyes were staring straight into his own dark browns and he saw her bite her luscious lower lip, painted red to match her skirt. She was nervous. His eyes left hers briefly as he saw the red stilettos at her feet. "Well, now that you have me baby... What are you going to do?" he chuckled. Chrissie put a finger to her lips to shush him and then slid it into her mouth between her ruby red lips. Thomas groaned as his cock throbbed anew. Chrissie walked over to the stereo, slightly behind him and to his left and hit a button. Suddenly the romantic strains of "Lady in Red" stopped and the prominent beat of his favorite band, Nine Inch Nails, started. Oh My God! his brain flew back to their first outing to a local strip club, well over two years ago, before they ever moved into together. A woman had danced to this song and he had told her of his fantasy of wanting her to strip for him to that song. And now his fantasy was becoming a reality. "Closer" played steady and strong as Chrissie began to unbutton her blouse, swaying her hips in tune with the music. She arched her shoulders forwards and back as she loosened each button and then slid her arms out and let the blouse drop to the floor. As the chorus began, I want to fuck you like an animal she laid her hands on her breasts and fondled her nipples through her red lace bra. She moved her hands to her stomach and slid her thumbs into the waistband of her skirt, excruciatingly slowly moving it over her undulating hips and down to the floor. She was now clad in her red lace bra, matching thong with black thigh highs held up by a red garter belt. Her feet danced in rhythm with the music. Her red open-toed four inch stilettos clad her tiny feet and made her long legs seem endless up to her thong where they joined her succulent body at the center of her being. Thomas held his eyes as steady as he could, knowing his jaw dropped to his chin, watching this seductress remove her clothing for him. Her eyes were closed, listening to the words of the song, fully moving her body in tune with the music. Her fingernails ran along the underside of her bra, caressing her breast and his cock ached. It was now clear why she had tied him. He couldn't touch her and he couldn't touch himself. She was tormenting him. Teasing him, she had said. And he loved every painful second of it. Her fingers moved the shoulder straps of her bra down over her upper arms, falling gently. She moved her hands to the front closure of her bra and quickly undid the clasp. She opened her eyes and stared him down as she opened one side of the bra in a quick flash. Thomas had seen her breasts many times before, but that slight glimpse nearly undid him as he ached to see more of her luscious globes. Chrissie flashed him a grin and opened up the other side quickly and then covered herself again. She danced around with her back now towards him, her perfect round buttocks fully exposed as he saw the g-string barely in the crack of her ass. His eyes moved to her back where she removed the bra and let it fall to the floor. As she turned back around to face him he saw her covering her nipples. Not seeing them was infinitely more erotic than anything he'd ever witnessed. Her saw her fingers open a bit and the peaked nubs were barely seen through her perfectly manicured hands. She teased them with her forefinger and thumb, pulling on them hard before she moved her soft hands to her waist and slid down the thong, letting her full breasts fall heavily of their own accord. Her red garter belt still held her thigh high stockings but her womanhood, the core of her being, decorated with a thin blonde landing strip, was now exposed to him. She caressed it lovingly as she finally approached him, knowing the song was almost over. Her right hand reached out to touch his fully erect cock, bursting from his boxer shorts. She let one finger trace the head of his penis and she smeared the pre-cum over it before bringing her finger back to her mouth and sucked it deep between her lips. She came closer to him, allowing her breasts contact with his mouth and he tried to grasp them between his lips to no avail. She reached down and stroked her gloriously wet pussy and then allowed him to suckle her fingers. She was heaven. Her honey was still sweet on his lips as she leaned in to kiss him. "Ready for round two?" she whispered and winked. If you are anxious to see what happens next to Chrissie and Thomas, please leave me a comment below and don't forget to vote -- Thank you for reading my stories...Jewel Tease Ch. 01 I looked up in surprise as bawdy honky tonk music filled the room. That's when I saw her. My wife was dressed up as she had been when she got in from work, but there was something different about her. The pencil skirt was still demure, but her lovely legs were now encased in nylons with a seam up the back. I wondered if they were held up by suspenders underneath that skirt, but I had no time to ponder, as my eyes were drawn to the shirt she was wearing tucked into the skirt, cleavage clearly visible through gap afforded by the buttons which had been undone. Her hair was up in a messy bun, and she was looking directly at me, as she stood in the doorway, one hand running up and down the doorjam, the other on her confidently jutted hip. My mouth must have fallen open as I looked her up and down, because she looked directly at me, smiling that pleased smile of hers. She started to sway her hips in time with the music, and then started to walk into the room, each step crossing one leg over the other, causing her hips to bump and shudder with each step she took. She was walking away from me, past me, to the centre of the room, and I had plenty of time to admire her beautiful arse. I had never noticed that she was quite that curvy before. She was wearing a pair of black patent stiletto heels, and they made the muscles of her legs stand out, curving the seams in her stockings. Her arse wiggled inside her tight skirt, and I realised that my trousers were becoming uncomfortably tight. I wriggled a little to get more comfortable, sitting up straighter on the sofa. Suddenly, reaching the middle of the room, she stopped, and looked over her shoulder, running her hands down her sides as she smiled at me. I couldn't take my eyes off her. She started to wiggle her hips, slowly at first, almost imperceptibly, but growing more bold. Still staring me straight in the eye, she rocked her hips around in slow, lazy circles, her hands reaching abover her head to undo the bun she'd tied her hair in. She shook her hair free, dark, wavy tresses falling below her shoulders, and ran her hands through it, eyes closed as she let the rhythm of the music move her body. Eyes still closed, and hands still playing with her hair, she swivelled her hips some more, turning in a slow circle to face me. By the time she was facing me fully, I was desperate to open my jeans to relieve the pressure that they were putting on my now fully erect member. God she was sexy. I'd never seen her like this before. She opened her eyes again, staring directly at me again, and bit her lip, as she moved her hands down her body, over her breasts, and down to her hips, then back up again. I could see her nipples sticking out through the smooth satin of her blouse, and she had her head thrown back a little, enjoying the feel of her own touch. She moved her fingers slowly over over to the buttons of her blouse, undoing one, then another, then another. My eyes never left her hands, as she slowly exposed her magnificent breasts, one inch at a time. She untucked the bottom of her blouse from her skirt, and turned away from me. I took the opportunity to undo the fly of my jeans, relieving some of the pressure. My penis sprang free, showing her exactly what effect she had on me. She looked back over her shoulder at me, grinding her hips in time with the music, and slowly slid her shoulder out of her blouse, exposing the milky white skin to the air. It was a little cool in the house, and I could see her skin tighten with goosebumps as she exposed it to the air. I could imagine the puckering of her nipples as they were too, exposed to the cool air. She slipped her other shoulder out of her blouse too, still looking over her shoulder at me, and rotating her hips. She smiled that lusty smile again, and I could feel my penis buck in reaction. She let the blouse drop off her arms and with a rustle of satin on smooth skin, it fell to the floor. Still facing away from me, she reached for the zip at the side of her skirt, and slowly started to unzip it. Everything she was doing seemed to take an age, when all I wanted was to rip the clothes from her body and take her right there on the floor. I councelled myself to be patient, but it was becoming more and more difficult, and unbidden, my hand crept over and started move up and down on my erect cock. The zip undone, she let the skirt fall to the floor, and stepped out of it, revealing that she was wearing a pair of high waisted suspenders, with a thong on underneath. I still hadn't seen the front of her, but the sight of her naked bottom gyrating in front of me had me salivating. The things I was going to do to this woman when she was finished.... She lifted her hands up to her hair again, twisting it through her fingers and moving her hips in a counterclockwise direction, she started to turn around to face me. I couldn't believe the motions she was making - they were raw, and sexual, and not the kind of thing I'd ever seen from my timid wife. I could see clearly now that she was wearing a longline bra - one of those 50's style bras which is halfway between a corset and a normal bra. It magnified her cleavage amazingly, the swell of her breasts above it jiggling with every undulating movement. She looked at me, on the sofa, dick in hand, and licked her lips gently, one hand travelling down her gyrating body, travelling over her breasts, lingering over the nipple, past her waist, and down to rest on her pussy. My heart almost stopped. I was trying not to actually masturbate while watching her, as I wanted to keep something for when she was done, but I was beginning to lose control of myself as I watched her. She stepped out of her heels, and undid the snaps on the stockings she was wearing, allowing her to roll them down. She did this one at a time, side on to me, reaching over and down to reach the very toes of her stockings. Hands flat on the floor, she removed one stocking, and then stood up quickly, arching her back and snapping her head back to flick her hair over her body. She moved both hands down over her breasts before reaching down to remove the other stocking. She rolled it so slowly, down her thigh, over her knee and down those long, long calves of hers. Snapping up to stand again, she started to walk toward me. I was terrified she was going to take my hand away from what it was doing. I watched her move closer, breasts jiggling every time she put her foot flat on the floor. I wasn't sure I'd be able to restrain myself if she got much closer. She reached me, put her hands on the back of the sofa, and leaned forward so that her breasts were in my face. Tantalisingly close, I wanted to bite at them, to suck the nipples, to make her forget about this silly game she was playing with me and convince her to let me make desperate, passionate love to her. She leaned even further forward to whisper in my ear. "No touching," she whispered, the her hot breath against my ear raising goosebumps and nearly sending me over the edge. She withdrew slowly, backing away from me, and then turned away from me again so I could see her undoing the hooks on her bra. Hooks undone, she slipped a strap over her shoulder, and then the other. It slipped to the floor, unnoticed again, as she gyrated to face me, her hands covering her breasts. The ties on her suspenders slapped against her taught thighs as she moved toward me again, purposefully, like a stalking jungle cat. Reaching my lap, she sat herself gently on my lap, and started to wiggle. She kept brushing my throbbing dick with her bottom with each movement, and I could feel myself start to tense up in preparation. She kept grinding herself onto my lap, her hips still moving with the rhythm of the music, her neck craned back so that her hair was brushing my chest. I could smell her shampoo. Abruptly, she stood up, turned, and straddled my thighs. I could feel the warm, damp heat of her pussy brushing up against my cock, and I started to gasp, closing my eyes to try and control myself before it was too late. I could feel her smile against my lips, and realised that she loved the power she had over me. Smiling still, she withdrew once again, and stood up a little further away from me. She unhooked her suspender belt, and let it slip to the floor, leaving her clad in only a tiny thong, which barely covered her neatly trimmed pussy. She put her hands over her head, and continued to dance, stretching her entire body luxuriously as she swayed in time to the music, hips pumping. She continued to dance, almost forgetting I was there, for a couple couple of minutes. Her hands started to roam lazily over her body as she danced, twirling slightly with each movement so I could see almost every inch of her body. She started to rub at her breasts, cupping them with her hands, and rubbing her thumb over the nipple. Her head was craned a little backwards, and I could see that she was truly enjoying what she was doing to herself. I could stand it no more. Letting out a growl of lust, I got to my feet and stepped over to where she was dancing. I picked her up, lifting her clear off her feet, and carried her back to the sofa where I'd been sitting. I was still rock hard and my cock was rubbing at the juncture of her thighs as I walked. I could feel how wet she was - dancing for me obviously aroused her as much as it aroused me. I laid her roughly on the couch, and dropped my trousers and underwear to the ground in one movement. Grabbing that thong of hers, I tore it from her body. I'd fully intended to take it off nicely, but I didn't have the time. I was desperate for her body, and nothing would stand in my way. Lying half on and half off the sofa, she spread her legs for me, one hanging over the back of the sofa. I knelt between her legs, feeling the hot moisture of her pussy against my stomach. I kissed my way up her stomach to her mouth, and then entered her. I was so desperate for her that I didn't hold back. Usually, I was ready to romance her for hours, but pure animal lust overtook me as I pushed into her warm, wet pussy. Her muscles resisted me, initially, probably unused to this kind of behaviour, but after a little pushing, they relaxed, and she moaned as I kissed her. She was so hot, and I didn't think I'd last long. The striptease she'd performed for me had me already on the edge. She took her mouth from mine and craned up to my ear to whisper again. "Fuck me, Michael," she whispered into my ear. With a surge, I plunged myself deep into her. Who was this woman? My wife did not use that word! But, oh God, how good it felt. Feeling like an animal rutting in the bushes, I pumped in and out of her like a man possessed. She moaned as she raked her long nails down my back, I could feel her actually leaving deep scratches on my shoulders. I pumped into her, once, twice more, before I came, gasping, shuddering, groaning with my release. I almost blacked out from the sheer pleasure - I don't think I'd ever come that hard before. I collapsed on top of her, feeling vaguely guilty that I hadn't allowed her to have her pleasure. Panting, I managed to look up at her, to see her smiling down at me. She wiped some of the sweat from my brow, and announced proudly: "I win." And so began the competition. Tease Ch. 01 I think I've worked out a little of what is making me so frustrated. It's that you seem to be coping with our long separation so well, without any of the attendant insanity that results from my going without you. So I've decided that providing you with some incentive in this form might get the result I want. Apart from seeing you, touching you and fucking you, that is. I also want you to crave this, to crave me. So, sitting in front of your computer. I hope there's no-one around. You'll want to play with your cock after all and you don't want to be interrupted. Maybe just out of the shower, shaved a little, clean and smelling so good, as always. I can imagine you now, slipping your hand down under your trousers, so much more convenient when you don't wear underwear (although I do like it on you sometimes, so nice to get you wet and uncomfortable). But I digress. Your hand is starting to touch your cock, very slowly. Ideally, you would be very alone right now. Alone enough to play with your luscious arse too. But I'll settle for your cock, for now. Or your balls, at least. Start with them. I know you like them handled a little roughly, but we'll start soft. Cup them, stroke them, pull them lightly. All soft and heavy, your cock only just starting to stir. Pity I'm not there to play with you myself. Yes, play with your balls. Don't touch your cock just yet. Keep going, I want you to wake up that part of you that wants this, wants play. I don't want you doing this in the shower, I want you in front of what I've written, reading it. Following my instructions. That will assuage my frustration just a tiny bit and hopefully add to yours, which is what you deserve right now, slut. Are you reading slowly and carefully? I love watching you play with your balls and cock, love the head space you go into when you do it in front of me. Imagine that I'm there, that you're obeying my verbal instructions. Think about my lips, my hands, wanting them on your balls, wanting my tongue licking them, my hands squeezing them just a little, enough to get your attention. That should make your cock start to harden. Of course, I want it hard. I want it hard and wet and aching. All in good time. Oh and just to be clear, you are not to come. Not until you see me. That should add to the incentive. And don't think I won't know -- I'll know from the way you come, how hard you beg, how much come fills my mouth, the noises you make. I know when you've gone without for a while. Now back to playing with your balls. Well, they're mine too and I like to think of you stroking them now, pulling a bit harder. Be a bit rougher with them slut. I know you like it when I do it. Is your cock starting to drip a little yet? I would hope so. Touch the tip for a moment, just long enough to smear that wetness over it, over the head, give yourself that sensation for a minute. Lick your fingers now. I wish I was there to do it, to taste it. Taste it for me. Is your cock twitching a little now? Don't touch the rest of it yet, just those little soft touches, swirling around the tip. Lick up any arousal for me, suck on your fingers and imagine that you're sucking on mine. Bite them softly. Make sure they're very clean. Stop playing with your cock. Back to your balls. Are they a bit tighter now, a little higher? I can imagine they are. I would hope so. Are you sure you're alone? Yes? Pull those trousers down then, at least to your knees, slump in your chair with your legs apart. Trail your hand down between your legs, stroke your balls, then up behind them, towards that pretty arsehole of yours. Run your nails between your balls and your arsehole for me. I know you don't particularly like being rimmed, but I know you love being fingered. Tease yourself. One hand still on your balls, leave that sensitive cock alone for now. The other stroking back and forth between your balls and your arsehole, brushing against your arsehole, feeling all the nerves around it contract and twitch. You like arseplay now, very much. Think of all the times I've teased you like this, how you've pushed back against my hand or the vibe I'm holding. I wish I was holding a vibe there now. Don't penetrate yourself yet. Just tease, lazily stroking and tugging those balls as you do. Is your cock dripping a little again? I hope so, I hope you're imaging my watching this. Perhaps you should be thinking about the time I fisted your arse, wrote my name on it, filmed you as I did it. I should give you a copy of that to watch -- although not before we watch it together. I have a strong desire to cushion my coffee table and bend you backwards over it, arched, hands and feet secure. In that position, I can do what I want with you, grind my pussy against your face, fuck your arse with my cock, whatever I like. And I know it's what you like, after all. Touch the tip of your cock again, smear that wetness on your finger, then suck it off again. Are you excited, my slut? Aroused, just a little? I'm sure you are. Tug your balls again, a little harder this time. Oh, I wish I was there, to grab them hard, to squeeze. Of course, if I was there, you'd be distracted by other things wouldn't you. You'd want to tongue fuck my mouth, bite my lip just a little, my ear, my neck. All the things you know I love. Your hands would be on my breasts, feeling their warmth and heaviness. Your fingers on my nipples, soft at first and then tugging harder, then your mouth, sucking, soft, hard, using your teeth until I gasp and pull away a little, then all of it again. Touch your own nipples for me now. I know they're very sensitive, I do love playing with them but you can only stand it for a little while. Your turn to do it. Use that nice wet finger to circle them, feel them start to harden a little. Trail your fingers back and forth over them, one hand still playing with those steadily hardening balls. Pinch then, slut. Do it. Does that make your cock jerk, just a little? I know for me that when you play with my nipples, it's like they're hard wired to my clit. Of course, I get wet when you walk in the door, so it might be a little difficult for you to tell. I love the thought of you slumped in that chair, reading this, pinching your nipples, one, then the other, the other hand cupping and squeezing and stroking your balls, or sliding over your arsehole. Imagining the picture you make. You have to keep opening your eyes to read, but I know you'll be closing them often. You always do want to -- but if I had my way, I'd photograph and film every second. And have you do it in front of a mirror, so you can see what I see, how very fuckable you are. Time to get that cock of yours -- of mine -- a little hard now. If it's not already, that is. Start sliding one hand up and down its length, avoiding the head for now. Lose the trousers, you don't need them. You need to play with your arse for me, imagine that for every thing you do for me, you get a reward. Make sure your legs are well spread, your arse displayed, your hand fisting your cock slowly but a little harder than before. Suck on the fingers of your other hand, make them nice and wet, at least one or two of them is going in your arse for me. Imagine that you're sucking my fingers for that purpose, that you're lubing them up for me to use on you. Now, start with one finger. Just a little way in, very slowly. I can imagine your cock jumping and getting wetter as you do. Of course, your pre-come is good lube. But for just a finger, I know saliva will do. Your arse is very well trained by now after all. I've fucked it with fingers, with dildos and vibes, with my fist. And didn't you tell me some very slutty story about using a small coke bottle to play with it yourself? My my, what an anal slut you are sometimes. I know you, you like the forbidden side of it, as well as the feelings you get from it, the nerve endings inside your arse, the pressure against your prostate, the back of your cock. And I know you like it when I fuck you -- apart from your own feelings, you love being fucked, being taken and used for my pleasure. You love the fact that I can come from fucking you, that I always do. I'd love to fist you again soon, see just how many fingers I can get inside you. I want to make you come from that. Maybe I'll restrain and gag you, lube you well, suck your cock on and off and just keep going until I'm satisfied and you're a puddle of moans and come, come that I'll feed into your mouth afterwards. Mmmm. Are you still finger fucking yourself, slut? Are you enjoying thinking about all the things I want to do to you, while you do some of them to yourself? Are you thinking about licking my creamy pussy? Feeling my clit get harder, retract, push out again, straining against your tongue, the smell and taste telling you just how excited I am, how much I love this. Just licking for now, knowing that I need your fingers to come really hard, but wanting to prolong the taste and the feel of it, your body between my legs, feeling them tense, feeling my skin against yours. Lifting your head now and again to watch my face, although you don't need to do that, you know the look that will be there, you can feel my body quivering for you. Keep moving that finger, just a little, your breathing coming a little faster now. Fist your cock for me slowly, if it's dripping again, pull your finger out of your arse, gather it up and push it back in. Use it as lube. Imagine I've just lubed my finger with my own come, as I often have, before fingering our arse. It feels very good. Imagine I'm watching you now. Trousers at your feet, legs spread obscenely, hips moving just a little as you finger your arse, as you stroke your cock. Think about what I'd like to do to you. How your hands wouldn't be free, they'd be bound and it would be my fingers, my hands, pulling your balls, slapping your cock until it's sore, but so hard and so wet. Spread for me, blindfolded and gagged, perhaps I'd see if you really liked that little taste of breathplay, or if you were just pretending for my benefit. Did you like it? Do you like me being rough? Do you like the thought of rape play, a harder version of use that you already enjoy? Do you like the thought of being bound and fucked, your face and mouth used for my pleasure? Being left with a gag in and a vibe in your arse, while I have a rest and a drink, perhaps take some photos, before I start again? I know you'll find the way to tell me if you do. I know you'll be able to tell right now if that excites you. After all, your finger is in your arse, your hand on your cock, your mouth a little open, your eyes closed, then forcing them open again to keep reading. You don't want to miss anything, after all, there's plenty of porn on the net, but only a small part of it has been written just for you. Although judging from the feedback emails I still get, there are lots of people who love what I write for you, wish it was them it was happening to. I just wish I was there watching you. Don't you dare come, remember. This is for my benefit slut, not just for yours. I want you trembling and twitchy and thinking of this during the day. And the night. And far too often, until you see me and you get all of these itches well and truly scratched. If it wasn't for the fact that you have to read this, you could be on your knees now, head down, arse in the air, one hand pumping your cock, the other pushing another finger into your greedy little arsehole. It feels so full, you feel so full, but you know that you can take much more than that. Oh, I wish I could get you to make more noise, love the thought of you moaning like a little whore as you do this to yourself or as I do it to you. But lying back in that chair is a nice image too, one that is helping me come myself. Of course I'm playing with my clit on and off as I write this. How could I not? I'm thinking of all the delicious things I want to do to you -- and all of those you want to do with me. Making myself come isn't nearly as satisfying as when you do it -- you make me come like a freight train, I'm sure I blow a few brain cells forever each time. Still playing with your cock? Remember, don't touch the head, except to gather up that bit of extra lube. I know how much you like getting yourself to a point where you have to stop. Are you nearly there? Is the occasional caress of the tip of your cock making you painfully hard, very wet, your breathing very unsteady now? Oh, I do hope so. It would be only fair, considering the impact you have on me. Think of me standing there watching you. It would be hard to just watch, not to join in, but I'm sure I'd manage it, considering all the other benefits I'd be getting. Perhaps I'd make you beg. Oh, not to come, you're not allowed to come. You need my permission for that, and you don't have it, not like this. I want you to save your come for me, for my mouth, or my breasts. Or come on my pussy and lick it all off afterwards, I'm sure we'd both enjoy that. No, I'd make you beg to lick me, lick my pussy, lick my clit, cover your face in my come. Beg for just a taste, beg for me to cover my fingers in my come so you could lick them, suck them for me. Imagine you're sucking on my fingers, one by one, or several all at once, your mouth full, your arse fingered, your cock being stroked up and down. I want you desperate, begging, moaning. I love it when you lose control, when you want something so much your clever brain goes to jelly and your body takes over. It doesn't happen very often, but when it does, I can see and hear and feel it. My manipulative, fascinating, dominating man retreats and my gorgeous dirty slut takes his place, just for a little while. So fucking hot, I can feel my pussy getting wetter now just thinking about it. See what you do to me? Well, you can hear or rather read about it now. Can you imagine yourself begging now? If you're alone, perhaps you should practice. I like "please Miss", that's always a favourite. Love it when you push parts of your body towards me, hoping I'll touch them. Love it when you tell me you need to come, you're going to come, you want to come, please, please, please ... But not now, slut. Oh no, you don't deserve to come, bad slut, who neglects me. You just deserve to be teased and denied, tortured a little. As I can't be there, for all those stupid dumb reasons there are, you will have to do it for me. Slap that cock now, just hard enough to sting. Slap it for me. Keep finger fucking your pretty arse of course, back to stroking your cock again. Slip your hand up over the head of your cock, then back down again. Does that feel so good it almost hurts? Oh good. I want you so hot and wet and hard and excited that it hurts, that I could make you come with a fingernail, or a couple of slaps. I know that I can, after all, I've made you come with a chain on your cock, with a soft flogger on it. Oh yes, I need some time with you. So many things I want to do. Think about them, as you play with your cock, with your arse, as you bring yourself closer to the edge. But not over it, not now. As I said, I want you sore and desperate, not smug and satisfied. Think about arriving at my door, on your knees outside, waiting for me to open it. Greeting me with kisses on my ankles, your hair in my hands as I tug you towards my room or the couch or wherever I want you. Your clothes off quickly, posing for me, as you do. Do you think I don't notice that? Of course I do -- that's why I love getting you off balance so much. Telling you to dress yourself, giving you a choice, laid out. Are you pony today, shiny catsuit and boots, hardness, tail and plug, cock tied, mouth bitted and bridled? Are you slutty today, a mixture of leather and lace, fishnet shirt, satin skirt, stockings and gloves and lip gloss and butt plug and all fuckable, every single inch of you? Perhaps a corset, restricting your breathing, focusing all your attention on your body, how it feels? Or just that leather skirt and boots, like some modern gladiator in a wet dream, sprawled back in my bed or chair or couch and offering it all up to me as the most delicious present I could get. And what is it that you want, as you finger your arse, stroke your cock, over the head, back again, wetter and wetter? Well? I know what I want. You. In all your delicious decadence. Your mouth, cock and arse. Your creamy skin, muscles hard beneath it, those legs that go on forever, particularly in boots, that hair, all gold and silk in my hands, your face, angles and harsh beauty, your wintry blue eyes and those lips, the ones I want to kiss and bite and have on my body. All of it. Do you want me now? Do you want to taste me and lick me and finger me and make me come until I squirm away from you because I just can't come one more time? Do you want my skin under your fingers and body, my eager mouth and lips on your cock, on every part of you? Do you want me holding you down, taking what I want? Do you want to come? Stroke that cock. Finger your arse. Feel how tight and hard your balls are. Do you want to come? If you do ... You have to ask me. Oh, I want you. Tease Ch. 02 I sit on the garage floor for several moments. A multitude of things were running through my mind. Who had that man been? What were you going to think when I walked into the house with it being obvious someone had just fucked the shit out of me? But most of all, how much I wanted someone to finish what the rapist had started. Shamed by the thought, I slowly picked myself up, and stumbled into the house. Nervously I head to the other side of the house where I noticed the light on in the study earlier. The movement in the door way has you turning to greet me, when you notice my appearance. "Holy shit!! What happened?!" pops from your mouth. You come towards me, lift me up and carry me towards the bedroom where you place me on the duvet. Glancing down you notice how red and swollen my breast are. You can see the marks of fingers in my white white skin. Head bowed, I proceed to describe what has happened in the garage. With me eyes cast down, I don't notice the excited gleam in your eyes as you realize the new security system would have the whole episode on tape!! As I'm describing to you how the intruder came in me several times and told me what a slut and come whore I am, my pussy clenches still hungry for my missed orgasm. "It's ok, sweetie" you say, "you know you're nobodies little slut but mine." You cup my face and force my face up to yours. You look into my eyes, and I begin to realize that you're not mad about another man fucking the pussy that you own, but that you're as excited as I am. "Oh!" I breathe out. I lean forward, hoping to catch your mouth in a feverish kiss. "Unh, unh, unh." You say pushing me back. "I want to check you out and see just what this attacker did to you." You start at my head, tilting my face one-way and then the other. You notice the traces of dried pussy and come juice on my face and raise your brows. "He wiped his dick off with my face," I whisper. Just saying the word send another pulse of heat and wetness to my pussy. You just nod, but I notice that you shift around, trying to find a comfortable place for your cock to reside in your pants. You rub your thumb across my puffy mouth, instead of asking why they are so red and swollen, you slowly push your thumb into my mouth and make a small moan as I start sucking it and running my tongue across the tip. "Oh, please" I cry as your hand moves lower to my throat. "I can't take it anymore!! He came so much inside of me, but I didn't come!!! Please! I can't wait!!!" You look at me with that evil grin you have and say "But you will wait won't you?" Frustrated, all I can do is lie on the bed, trying surreptitiously to rub my thighs together and stimulate my clit. You reach over and slap my thigh, silently admonishing me. I pout as you run your hands over my shoulders, and down my arm. You leisurely run your hands back up my arms. I am thinking you are going to take all night at this, when you palm my breasts and pinch my nipples so hard that my back arches off of the bed. "Mmmmmmm" I moan as you continue to twist and pluck at them. "Did you like his hands on your tits?" You ask. "Yesss!!!" I hiss as you continue. I feel instantly bereft as you just chuckle and move your hands down to my waist and then tummy. You get on your knees beside the bed, and pull my ass to just barely be hanging off the side. I splay my legs open, so that you can see the part of me that needs attention most. You grab my hips, and rub your thumbs back and forth over the dips under my hipbones. You have me cross my ankles and lift my legs straight into the air. "The curve of your ass where it meets the top of your thighs is going to bruise" you say, running your palms over the spots. "He was fucking me from behind" I huskily whisper. "He wasn't concerned with anything else but putting a load of cum in my cunt." Just saying the words turned me on so much!!! In my mind I was replaying how hard he had slammed his cock into me. Remembering how it had felt as he came, and came, and came in me. I realize you are gently spreading apart my pussy lips. "Fuck" you grunt as you notice the cum that starts dripping from me. I whimper as you reach out and run the pad of your thumb around my clit. I can't hold still!! "Please!! I'm begging!! I want you to fuck me!!" You can't take it any more either and quickly stand and remove your pants. You sit on the side of the bed and yank me to the floor to where I'm kneeling in front of you. "If you want it so badly, you little slut, you can get me ready for your cunt can't you?" You ask as you grab my hair and rub your cock against my face. I grin, because if your cock were any more ready it would turn purple. Greedy for it I open my mouth wide and gobble down your cock so that it hits the back of my throat. "God!" you groan as I work my tongue up and down the length of your dick. I love making you come with my mouth! I hum and twist my head back and forth so that I know you are getting the most out of it. "Fucking your face!" you gasp. You pull may hair into two ponytails and use them like handle bars as you jack my mouth up and down your dick. I reach up and cup you balls, squeezing and rolling them in my hand, like you're my priest, and they are my rosary. "Suck it" you yell. "Suck my dick you little slut! You're mine!! You know how I want it!!" You are pumping into my mouth so hard and fast that I am worried for a moment that I won't get the cock that I need for a second time tonight!!! You yank my head back, pick me up and toss me onto the bed. Flipping me over, you shove my head into the covers, and raise my ass into the air. "I want to fuck that slutty, come filled snatch of yours" You force the length of your thick cock all the way up into my pussy in one might push. "Uuugggg!!" you grunt. "Fuck!!" You pound away at my cummy snatch. "Fuck!! It feels like I squirted a whole bottle of lube in there!!" I'm so excited by now by the first savage fucking, and now by the way you are just using my pussy like it was the last time you could ever fuck. My pussy is gripping your cock, pulsing, as I am about to come. You are gripping my hips pulling my pussy onto your dick. I reach between my legs stretch out the lips around my clit so that your balls can slap it as you pound into me. "Fuck me" I scream. "Fuck that pussy!! Give me your cum. I want to be flooded with come!! Put another load in that snatch!!" I want it so bad!! "Ah, ah, ah, god yes, oh, oh, oh yeah, I'm coming all over your cock! Feel that cum mixing with his! Oh, baby, ummm...... give me more come!" I moan and thrash about, my cunt rhythmically squeezing and griping your cock. "Fuck!!" you yell as you try to force your way into my spasming pussy. You can't take the feel of my pussy stroking and squeezing your cock! "Unnngg!! Unnngggggg!!" You start grunting as finally load after load of cum shoots into my already overflowing cunt. "Take that cum you little slut, fucking whore, take all of the fucking cum!" You yell through clenched teeth. "AAAAArrrrrrrrgggggggg!!!!!" Your dick spays cum into me, mixing with the cum already overflowing me and running down my thighs. You slowly pull out of my well-used pussy and are amazed that another drop of come oozes out of the tip of your cock. You set back onto your heels, looking at me as ribbons of come run down my legs from my swollen and reddened pussy. You gently lay my exhausted body along side yours in bed and lift my tired and satisfied eyes to meet yours. "Whose little cum slut are you baby?" "Yours" I sigh, "Only yours" as I snuggle up to your chest and drift off. Tease Ch. 02 And so ... I'm hoping that having read the first part of this, you're now distracted and aching with need. As you should be, it has been far too long and an email, however long and detailed (as you so enjoy) is hardly compensation for the real thing. So where were we? Oh yes, you were playing with your cock, balls and arse for me. And for yourself as well, don't try and pretend that you aren't enjoying this. I know you are. Quite apart from the physical pleasure, you enjoy the touch of shame and humiliation and the thought that this entertains and excites me, as well as you. Not as exciting as it would be to have you here, now, to touch and to tease, but I'll take what I can get. Do you like being teased? Of course you do. Even when you're doing it to yourself, to my instructions. And so, back to those instructions. I hope you've managed to keep the mood you were in for part 1. Perhaps you should read that again, just to be sure. Slowly. And following the instructions again ... Done? Is your cock still hard and wet? If not, then I suggest you get it that way, fast. Close your eyes for a few minutes, think of being in that leather armchair, legs draped over either side, leather skirt and boots on, eyes closed, stroking your cock for me. There aren't many better sights than that, as far as I'm concerned. Stroke your cock the way you do when I tell you to keep it hard. Remember the time you got me to lie back on the couch and watch you, how excited I was, as you teased yourself and played the whore for me. Or think of something else, if you'd rather. The time you got me to do the same, under threat of punishment if I stopped, until I got so wet that I could hardly feel it. Was that the time that you sat me back in a chair and slowly, painfully, but so pleasurably pushed all five fingers into me? I do know that I was dripping wet -- even more so after you rewarded me for being good by presenting your arse for the same experience. And you took it so easily too ... of course, my hand is much smaller than yours. I expect that I could fit more than my fist in your slutty, greedy arse by now. Or perhaps you're out of practice and we'll have to start again. One careful finger, two, with plenty of lube, three, watching your cock slowly drip. Perhaps one day I should just milk you dry like that ... not touch your cock at all but just play with your arse until there's no more come left. I do want to make you come from being fucked, after all. I love the thought of driving my cock (or that vibe you so enjoy) into your arse, over and over, at just the right angle for you, with that look on your face that says "don't stop" ... Don't stop yourself, you know I want that cock hard and wet. And I do hope that you're fingering your arse as well, reminding your body of how good that can feel. How very good it feels when I'm fucking your arse with a vibe and sucking your cock at the same time. I'm sure your cock is wet again now. And are you close to coming? How many times have you come, in the past weeks without me? Three times? More? Less? Of course I've come countless times, but it's either that or be locked up for multiple homicides, so it doesn't count. I know you can go without (sadly) but I cannot. At any rate, how much do you want to come now? Part of me wishes you would wait. Wishes you would tease yourself now and for the pages after this, because I fear that once you do come, the desperation will disappear and with it, the drive to have it -- and me -- in reality. Although I know that you want to make me come, that you enjoy it very much, it's not quite enough to get you through my door. Do you have the discipline to play this game and then wait for my fingers to do the stroking, my lips and mouth and throat to drag your come from your cock? Hopefully I'll find out in person, soon enough. If you don't, perhaps I'll get to punish you. I'd enjoy that -- and so would you, I know. While you don't enjoy certain types of pain, there is some pain that excites you. My punishment fantasy? Let's see ... Still stroking your cock and arse, I hope, just enough to make this decision hard for you ... A punishment would need to be something that strained your control to breaking point. I do like hurting you and that does get me some noise, slapping your cock feels very good (but I've made you come from that, so perhaps not the best thing to start with). I do love the thought of restraining you on my bed, hands secure above your head, legs spread (either with a bar or with cuffs above your knees, then your knees pulled up and held at that point by rope through the bars). In that position, I can do what I want to you. You have no control, you can't distract me from what I want by using your talented fingers. I can kneel above your face, tease you with the smell of my pussy, so wet and wanting to be licked. I can lower myself enough for your tongue to just reach me, licking what you can, little sounds of frustration as I stay almost out of reach. I could use that cock gag on you, make you fuck me with it, grinding against your face, using what I want. And I can spank your pretty arse if I like, enough to get it red and sore. Squeeze your balls and make you wince or groan, just a little. Finger your arse and then fill it with a plug or a small vibe, open it up a little. Enjoy your tongue some more. And watch your cock alternately twitching and dripping, ignored, untouched. Blindfold you, gag you (perhaps with my wet underwear), then play with your arse. Fingers first, squeezing lube in. Stroking and teasing your balls as well, of course. Using a vibe, finding the setting that sets you off, then slowly fucking you with it. Or the strap on, enjoying how it feels for me as I slowly stroke into your arse, every movement sending waves of pleasure through me. Mmmm. Particularly with you restrained. Of course, you'd have to suck my cock first, like a good slut. I could start by letting you set the pace and then perhaps get a little impatient, decide that I'm going to fuck your throat, take what I want. You can't stop me physically after all -- although you know you can always ask for mercy. But I don't think you will, you like to be forced, just a little, trying to control your gag reflex, drooling and struggling for breath, your arse filled with a buzzing vibe, your throat full of my cock. Enough to make you struggle, pant, make a little noise. Then between your legs, your arse propped up to exactly the right position for me to fuck you. No carpet burns this time, I can take as long as I like. No gag now, I want to hear you beg. Will you beg for your cock to be touched? Or beg for me not to stop, to keep going just as I am? You know that this will make me come, hard, time and time again, the physical feelings, the rush of control, the beauty of your body underneath me and knowing that I can take what I want and that you love it. I do want to make you come like that. Or perhaps with my fist. I could see how many fingers you could take -- one hand? One hand and a few fingers beside that? Stretch and fill your arse, make you groan. Think, now, about how that feels. Do you like having my fist in your arse? Such a slut you are and so fucking gorgeous, particularly like that, cock streaming pre-come, body rigid, your arse flexing and moving around my fingers. Oh, if you're going to come, perhaps it should be like that. As long as I have that little breathy whimpering soundtrack that I so enjoy. As soon as I tell you to play with your cock, or call you a slut and a whore, as soon as more than a few fingers go into your arse, with perhaps a slap on that gorgeous skin to accompany it, you go into a different place. Whether it's real or a performance for my benefit, I don't know. I suspect a combination of both, you play the writhing slut for my benefit, but knowing how it affects me and feeling what I'm doing to you helps the slut to emerge. Love the times you sit me in a chair and play the reverse cowgirl, stealing kisses over your shoulder, grinding your body against me, up and down. Or turn around and present that pretty arse for me, open it up with your fingers, or toys, body moving back and forth as you enjoy my watching you. Is all of this punishment? Well, if you've already come, why should I suck your cock for you, why should I touch it at all? As much as I enjoy doing so, of course. Or scratching it, or slapping it, rubbing the wetness all over the head and stroking until you pull away enough to let me know you're close to coming, so I can wait for a little while and then do it all again. I hope you're doing that to yourself now. Getting close to coming, playing with your cock, imagining it's my fingers that are caressing you. Or, as I said, that I'm in the room, watching your performance, that I'm so wet from it you can smell me from the other side of the room. That you want me to come closer, so you can touch me, taste me, and so you're enticing me, playing the wanton slut, showing me what I'm missing. Oh, I know what I'm missing. Do you remember what you're missing? Do you want it -- want me? And if you're good, ah ... if you wait to come, what then? Is the play any different? Do you want it to be? There are so many different things I want to do and try with you that there aren't enough years left for the world to do them in. I try to be gentle, but I don't want to be. I want to bend you over and fuck you hard in a public place. I want to drive my cock into you while I slowly take away your air, bring you close to orgasm then drive you through it into exhaustion and bliss. I want to have you show off for me in a sleazy sex store or an adult theatre. I want to whore you out and fill you up with come and then take you home and clean you and fuck you and suck you in my shower under warm water until you come, shuddering and groaning for me. I want to tie you up for a day and see if I really can make you come more than once, more than twice. I want to take you out and show you off and tease you through dinner and drinks until you are wild to take me home. I want to make you lose control and be rough with me and take what you want, which just happens to be what I want as well. I want to leave marks. I want to wake up with you and go to sleep with you. I want to take you out openly and have people be jealous of us both, so clear is it that we can't keep our hands off each other. I know that I can't have what I want and I try to be patient, sometimes successfully. Mostly not. At least here and now, you're mine, doing what I ask, because you want to. Have you decided? Can you wait to come? What is reward, then? Perhaps reward is what you ask for. What would you ask for, I wonder? I can be gentle, when asked. Excrutiatingly so. Or if not gentle, at least patient in this arena. I do love sucking your cock, after all. An hour of that, with you in a comfortable position and me enjoying feeling and watching you. Imagine that hour, as you gently stroke your cock yourself. I might need to restrain you, I know that you feel the need to make me come and use that as a distraction, take the focus away from yourself. But perhaps I want to focus on you, re-learn your body after too long away from it, too few times with it over the last few months. Every movement, every minute shift in posture, the way your cock grows and swells in my mouth, the taste of your pre-come, the way your balls move and shrink as your cock grows harder and redder and more ready. The jerk of your hips as you warn me to stop, or the single murmered word. Over and over and over again, the warmth of my mouth or the feeling of my hands, a scrape of teeth to further excite, swirling my tongue around the head of your cock, sucking hard, then fucking you with my mouth. Pushing you towards the edge, deciding that it's time to release you. Loving the frantic way you try to resist or control or restrain yourself, wanting to come so much but also wanting to prolong the moment or moments forever, every nerve twitching, your cock a hard throbbing mass of feeling that draws together everything from your head to your toes. That moment on the precipice that lasts and lasts and builds your orgasm until it can't be held back unless I stop. And saying "Yes, come", pushing the button for your release. "The little death" the Greeks called it, and sometimes that's how it feels -- we both know it's most usually the end of our play, so the taste is bittersweet. But I enjoy every noise, every movement, each second of lost control, the come in my mouth and throat, the momentary abandon that seizes you. The look on your face, the sound of your voice, the stillness afterwards. Oh, I'd like to keep you tied up and rest you and then do it again. And again. Or perhaps gentleness is not what you want as a reward. Still reading, my love? Still stroking? Or have you come sometime in the last few pages, between the combination of imagination and sensation? I hope you've licked a few drops off your fingers as you lie back exhausted, if so. And I hope you're planning to tell me the truth, when next we meet. Because irrespective of what you have done, I will get to choose what to do to you and with you. I think it's my turn. I know you will want to make me come, as I've said -- and don't worry, I look forward to that. Just as you enjoy my strong desire for you, I too like to be desired and wanted, of course. But more than my body's needs have to be assuaged right now. I love the way you make me come. But I need to touch and taste and control your sensations as well. And if there's only time for one? What would you pick? Do you want to lick my pussy, creamy and wet and ready for your touch? As is every part of my body, aching for it, my lips parched for your kisses, my ears, my neck, my breasts, nipples hard and throbbing, my back wanting to be scratched, my legs to be opened and held there, my body wanting your weight on me, your fingers inside me, making me move and demand and explode, over and over, until I try and crawl away from you, shaking with happy tiredness. That smirk on your face, which I tolerate after all because it's a happy smirk and I like making you happy -- also I'm sated, free of tension, full of bliss. Or should I take you roughly, use you hard? Deny you the pleasure of making me come, except from your mouth (if you're lucky) or from my cock pushing into your arse and filling me at the same time. Pinning you down, fucking you hard, dragging you towards coming without any choice. And if you're taking too long, grasping your cock hard, hurting you just enough to take you over that screaming edge, your come on me and on you, smeared on my fingers and licked off by your hungry, compliant mouth. Oh, how I miss your mouth. Should I dress you up, corset you with fabric or rope? Of course, if it's rope, I have to blindfold you and gag you to avoid said smirk (less acceptable at the start of play, unless I want you to top from the bottom). Give you a choice as to costume and role, have you play pony for me, oh, how I miss my pony and all those silent affectionate touches. Would you pick being restrained and teased, fucked and fisted, or sucked until you come? Would you struggle with your bonds, want to be overwhelmed or spanked, try and distract me with caresses and every trick you know? Would you strip as soon as you come through the door, or kneel? Or hug and kiss and not want to let go for those few minutes, to let both our bodies relax with each other? Explore what's new, drag it out with a cigarette or a drink, or push me against the nearest wall and reacquaint yourself with my body as well. It is a little different from the last time you touched it, after all. Would we stay in or go out or both? Give me the pleasure of watching you eat and drink and know you're coming home with me (delayed as that might be by a little in car teasing). Too cold to hook you up in the outside room, thank goodness for my heating and that hot shower that never runs out of water. Would you lie me back in bed and tell me that you're going to make up for all the missed weeks and frustrations and try and dozen different toys, knowing full well that your lips, tongue and fingers are what make me come hardest and fastest and best. And your cock of course, feeling it against me, knowing that you are enjoying what you are doing. Would it be a scene, with costumes and toys and props, perhaps my camera for either of us to frame the fantasy in reality in front of us? Or a frantic, fingers in your hair, clothes pulled off, struggle for equal control of pleasure and desperation for urgent relief, until we are both calm enough to choose play. The truth is, of course, that what will happen is an unknown until you walk through the door. I never tire of you, although sometimes I wish I could. Anything we do together is exciting and satisfying, everytime I see a new tiny piece of the puzzle that you are, which appears to be a million piece puzzle, rather than something I could do in an afternoon. Everytime I do something a little different and watch or feel your reaction, everytime I feel your body shudder and taste your come and know that it's something that I made happen, against so many of your instincts and inhibitions. And so -- did you come? Do you want me?