Gently, he brushes my hair away from my face before he sets about wrapping the stocking around my left wrist. With a knowing look, he leans over me, urging my arm upwards and fastening the stocking to the bedpost. While he concentrates on making sure the bindings aren’t too tight, I grab the opportunity to examine the scar again, up close.
‘Comfortable?’
‘Yes, thank you.’
He repeats the process with my right hand.
‘I’ve been looking forward to this for months.’ He finalises the knot. ‘And I intend to make a fucking meal of it. Have you seen enough of the scar?’
What? He’s noticed?
‘I didn’t …’
‘Maybe I should blindfold you, take your mind off it.’
‘No,’ I blurt quickly. ‘I want to see you.’
‘Then behave yourself. If you’re going to fixate on anything, fixate on this.’ He points down to his erect penis, and then he touches my chin, angling my face towards his. ‘They’re just scars. That’s what you said. I’m still perfectly capable of driving you wild.’
‘Do your best.’
‘Oh, I will. Trust me, you’re going to be a deranged shell of a woman by the time I’ve finished with you.’
‘I can take anything you’ve got.’
‘That’s fighting talk.’
He leans down, sealing his lips around mine and delivering a long, deep kiss. At last, he pulls away and smiles down at me. He’s totally in control, and he knows it. Moving again, he parts my legs wider than before, and kneels between them.
‘Am I allowed to make noises now?’ I ask.
‘Why not?’
He touches my vagina, moves the finger up to my clit, and back again. I buck at his touch. A palm comes to rest on my stomach, pushing me back into place. His eyes glint darkly.
‘I’m going to remind you what you’ve got with me, and you’re allowed to make all the noise you want, because I want to listen to your sweet moans while I make you come … again and again and again.’
‘I might howl again.’
‘I don’t care.’ He leans down, smoothing back my pubic hair and blowing against my labia. ‘Just don’t beg me to stop.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because it’s pointless. I’m not going to stop.’
‘And if I do beg?’
His lips curl up at the corners.
‘Then I’ll gag you.’
A squeak escapes my mouth as he places a hand on each of my thighs and leans in. I feel his tongue at my anus, warm, soft and wet. He licks a path along the length of my perineum and then across my labia, probing softly between the folds. Spending an age there, he laps against the bundle of nerves before moving to my vagina, circling it, moving out and in, over and over again. And then his tongue penetrates me, as far as it can go, tasting me. A moan erupts from my lungs as he withdraws, moving back to my clit. And then he works at me again, slowly at first before picking up the pace. My insides knot. Muscles heat, twinge and contract.
‘Oh God.’
I’m exhausted, completely disconnected from time, fighting the urge to beg him to get on with it, and definitely covered in a sheen of sweat. At last, he puts an end to the sweet torture, allowing me to trip over the edge into a long, all-consuming orgasm that explodes at the back of my vagina, undulating outwards in rich, deep ripples. Wave after wave of contractions rip through me, causing me to arch my back from the bed. Somehow, I manage to look down at him. With his mouth still on my clitoris, bringing me back from the high, he watches me, evidently pleased with himself as I writhe and pant and tug at my bindings.
‘How was that then?’ he asks when he’s finished.
‘Not bad,’ I tease, trying my best to get my breathing back under control. Aftershocks of ecstasy are still rippling through me. I’m sliding into a post-orgasmic fuzz.
‘Not bad?’ he queries.
‘Uh huh.’ I wriggle. ‘Quite nice.’
Arching over me, he begins to skim his mouth across my flesh, every last inch of it. His lips leave a trail of tingles in their wake. I light up again under his touch, pulling at the bindings, wanting nothing more than to feel him now. But he’s got me exactly where he wants me. I’ll just have to wait. He pauses, raises his head and smiles at me. And then he leans back in, running his nose along my sternum, licking me here and there, sucking gently, tasting my sweat.
‘You do know this is my favourite hobby?’ he asks.
‘Not knitting?’
He laughs.
‘No. Not knitting. Not any more. Driving you insane with pleasure.’
‘I’m already there.’
My insides are sparking still, every single muscle twitching. I’m filled with an all-consuming calm. I close my eyes, drifting away … and he’s moving again. Suddenly, he thrusts his fingers back into my vagina, swirling them round before withdrawing them, quickly. I open my eyes to find him arched over me.
‘Taste this.’
I open my mouth and accept the fingers, sucking greedily at them.
‘A good chef tastes the dish as he goes along. I’d say you’re pretty much ready.’
He removes the fingers and nudges my legs further apart. Never breaking eye contact, he lowers himself on top of me, steadying himself on his right arm and sliding his left hand under my buttocks. He nudges his cock against my vagina, once, twice, before he probes inwards, filling me completely. Slowly, he withdraws and drives in again, adjusting his position, sending spasms right to my core, a warning that I’m not going to last long. And then, buried deep inside, he comes to a halt. I can feel him keenly now, every tiny movement as he grinds his crotch against mine. At last, he begins to thrust,
