Bound together

Amber Dextris

The white walls flashed as she flicked the lighter.

She lit the twelve candles that she'd placed around the chair, on the floor, and on the coffee table. The short flames danced as the air moved while she took off her clothes. She stretched, exposing the entire length of her naked body to the candlelight, then relaxed her shoulders and touched her skin. The only thing she was wearing was her wedding ring, flames twinkling in its diamond.

Her hands touched her shoulders, then trailed over her breasts, down her waist, and she lightly tickled her thighs with her fingertips. She smiled to herself and combed her hair back behind her ears. Sitting down on the chair, she leaned her shoulder-blades against the chair-back and relaxed her arms. She closed her eyes, tilted her head to one side and smiled to herself. The look on her face was that of shyness. The light from the candles yellowed her skin, but it was a soft and sexy hue and she felt the warmth of fire coming from inside her, rather than from the candle flames. She rolled her head back and to the other side, touching shoulder to ear as she slid slightly forward in the chair. She bumped one of the pillar candles with her foot and hot wax ran down onto her toes.

"Ah …" she whispered, parting her lips, not sure if in pain or in pleasure.

Her mouth was wet when she opened her eyes and stared into the twelve short flames. Her nipples protruded and she looked down at them and sucked her lower lip. Licking her fingers, she touched both nipples and they shone in the candlelight like dark pink beads. She cupped her breasts with her hands and squeezed them, massaging them deliberately to create a strange new pleasure.

She knew he was watching her from the dark far corner of the room. He had watched her light the candles, he had watched her undress, and now he was watching her touch her body. He wanted to stand up, go to her, and show her how he knew she liked to be touched, but he knew the rules. Also, she had tied him to the chair, tied his hands behind his back so that he couldn't touch himself. And tied his ankles to the front chair legs so that he couldn't get up. She wanted him to watch … and only watch.

The candlelight in front of her rendered the rest of the room completely dark to her sight, but she knew he was there. She separated her feet and parted her legs slightly. She knew she was wet already. Her hands descended her torso. Her skin was alive to the touch of her own fingertips, especially when they crossed her tan lines and she made bare contact between fingers and wet flesh. The little bump of her clitoris welcomed the direct contact as she began to rub it gently with two fingers.

He saw the expression on her face when she found that sensitive spot, and he felt himself harden uncontrollably. Again, he needed to get up off of his own chair and create the pleasure that she was giving to herself, but he couldn't move. His arms flexed as he pulled against the ties, and it frustrated him equally to see that she didn't notice him struggling. She was touching herself and that's all that mattered to her right then. He soon realised that he had no choice but just to sit and watch her.

She pushed her fingers deeper inside her to reach the hot moisture that had suddenly welled there. She used that wetness to keep her surface nice and slippery so that she generated hot friction with her fingertips. She separated the folds, uncovering her orgasm button so that she could knead it knowingly with her fingers, in uneven rhythms to heighten her sense of desire for self-pleasure. A quick succession of up-and-down rubbing would get her closer to the edge faster, but then a slow, hard massaging motion would intensify the final burst of pleasure. She was still a long way off, but she had no intention of getting there quickly.

His tip throbbed. A drop of moisture lingered at the top as he watched the girl behind the candles. Her arms lay close next to her body while her hands worked between her thighs. She had leaned further back on the chair and closed her eyes while she touched herself. He noticed the muscles in her forearms twitching ever so slightly while she moved her fingers skilfully around her humid core. There was a small frown of pleasure-resistance on her brow and her mouth was slightly open, her lips wet. He also saw her chest respond to her intermittent sharp inhalations, her breasts rising and falling like two buoys cresting and sinking on a heaving sea.

She worked her fingers over her clitoris now in a circular motion, surprising the pleasure within, which dragged her closer to her orgasm. She hummed against her lips in response to the sudden rise in sensation. Her fingers moved more quickly, but she had to slow herself down, work against her own desire to come, and prolong the voyeurism of her hostage in the chair. She took a deep breath, opened her eyes, trying to look past the candles. She couldn't see him, but she knew he was there. She licked her fingers, tasting herself, as she stood up. He exhaled brusquely as he felt the blood boil in his erection. He could taste her on the tip of his tongue. She turned the chair around, the back facing him, then straddled it. He couldn't see behind the chair back, but with her knees on either side of it, he knew that with her legs spread like that, all her soft parts were exposed. Her petals opened of their own accord. He could almost feel her heat at his mouth as he wanted so badly just to taste her, to lick her tender nub and to cause that hot shudder right before she begged him to stop. Tied to the chair, he was helpless; could do nothing but watch.

All he could see were her legs, her shoulders and her arms down to her elbows. Her naked body and her cunning fingers were hidden behind the chair back, and he noticed that same facial expression as she began to touch herself again.

She parted the wet folds and found her most sensitive area, manipulating that one spot as best she could with her fingertips. She heard a small moan come from the shadows on the other side of the room and it seemed to hum between her fingers and her wet skin. She rubbed a little harder and a little faster, and her knees momentarily clamped the chair as her internal pleasure shot up. She relaxed a bit, but didn't stop the little circular bursts that her fingers were working into her clit. The momentary increase in pleasure came again and she tilted her head back and her mouth opened. She forgot about the "no vocals" rule and expelled a deep moan. This helped her along, but she wasn't quite there yet. Harder, faster she rubbed and finally her orgasm climbed down her spine and vibrated at her fingertips. It wasn't a quick little sneeze of a climax … because she knew he was watching. It lasted, and she ground her hips forward as she seemed to come forever. The moan came from behind her throat as she let the final part of the orgasm go. Her deep breathing slowed and finally she turned the chair again and sat down to face the candles. She licked her fingers again, ensuring that the look on her face told a story of enjoyment. Then she stood up, retrieved a candle from the floor and walked into the darkness, lighting a path for herself.

At the end of her path she found him tied to the chair. He had a full erection, his tip glistening. He strained forward against the restraints as she stood in front of him. All he wanted to do was lick her skin - her neck, her nipples, her arms, her thighs - nothing but taste the post-orgasm flavour on her body. A crease of frustration halved his brow as he fought the desire to stand up and push her onto his bed. He wanted - he needed - to take her. The desire was almost violent. He wanted to push inside her to end his misery and to make her feel what real pleasure was about. His shaft ached at these images in his head. She turned around, and sat down on his lap with her back against his chest. Her head lay back over his shoulder. Her buttocks rested against his lower belly so that his length protruded out between her legs. He felt her hot surface against the side of his shaft. She wiggled against his restrained body, putting one arm up around his neck, and arching as she traced her other hand down the length of her body, ending between her thighs, where her fingers simultaneously touched his hard length and her own surface. He growled in her ear, breathing deeply to maintain control before he burst out of his restraints. She turned and looked at him, brushing her lips ever so gently against his cheek, but then he whimpered because her nipples were touching his chest, and the torture of being so close to being able to have her was almost overwhelming.

She stood up again and turned to face him, straddling his lap, holding him in place before sinking painfully slowly onto him, swallowing his entire length up inside her. He wanted to thrust rhythmically, deeper … she was agonisingly hot … but she didn't move. She leaned forward, reaching down to loosen the ties around his wrists. She worked shakily and unsteadily because she knew the effects of his confined desire …

With his arms and hands finally free, his eyes flashed as he made eye contact with her and she passed a silent consensual look into his eyes as she sat up. He grabbed her hips, pulling her down onto him, harder, so that he pushed much deeper inside her. She moaned as she grabbed his wrists, her knuckles whitening with the force of her grasp, but he continued to thrust upwards, holding her in place and moving her hips to sustain his motions. Holding his arms, she braced herself and rode the final torrent of his release. She felt the hot fountain burst inside her as his jagged moans became jagged breaths, and he released his hands from her hips, slumping back against his chair and folding his arms around her body. She leaned her head against his shoulder as their chests met, and the candles backlit their post-coital rest and merged their two bodies into one shadow on the bedroom wall.



LitNet: 26 May 2005

We'd like to hear your reaction to this story. Send your comments to webvoet@litnet.co.za to start a discussion on SêNet, our interactive opinion page. Or send your own tasty yet tasteful erotic poetry and prose to Ingrid Lehmensich at hygstories.

Klik hier en sluit aan by ons nuusbrieflys vir jou weeklikse dosis oemf! Klik hier om die nuutste nuusbrief te sien

boontoe / to the top

© Kopiereg in die ontwerp en inhoud van hierdie webruimte behoort aan LitNet, uitgesluit die kopiereg in bydraes wat berus by die outeurs wat sodanige bydraes verskaf. LitNet streef na die plasing van oorspronklike materiaal en na die oop en onbeperkte uitruil van idees en menings. Die menings van bydraers tot hierdie werftuiste is dus hul eie en weerspieël nie noodwendig die mening van die redaksie en bestuur van LitNet nie. LitNet kan ongelukkig ook nie waarborg dat hierdie diens ononderbroke of foutloos sal wees nie en gebruikers wat steun op inligting wat hier verskaf word, doen dit op hul eie risiko. Media24, M-Web, Ligitprops 3042 BK en die bestuur en redaksie van LitNet aanvaar derhalwe geen aanspreeklikheid vir enige regstreekse of onregstreekse verlies of skade wat uit sodanige bydraes of die verskaffing van hierdie diens spruit nie. LitNet is ’n onafhanklike joernaal op die Internet, en word as gesamentlike onderneming deur Ligitprops 3042 BK en Media24 bedryf.