Dinner

Pulling into my drive, seeing the garage door open with no car in the slot, both of my brothers cars not in their normal parking spot either, I step out. Walk to your door and open it as lightning illuminates the sky, giving a momentary flash of your lightly tanned shoulders. Lifting you and placing you upon the long green hood of the 1967 Buick Wildcat, laying you out so your head is propped against the slopping windshield and your feet hang over the grill, in front of me. Taking my time with each stroke every change in pressure, my hands work themselves over your feet and up your calves. Your sun kissed skin is as soft and smooth as velvet on my lips. Putting as much attention into your lower legs as I had with my hands, I kiss and explore with my mouth. With each new stroke and touch your breath is caught somewhere between your chest and lips.

Pulling back from your velvety sun kissed skin, a murmur of protest escapes from your lips but is quickly replaced by my own lips. My left hand slide under your neck, my right explores the top of your exposed skin above your green dress.

With each kiss I'm pulled deeper in, my desire to tempt you will soon be my own undoing. Each return to your lips is deeper and is more full of passion than the last. Your hand finds the back of my head, gripping tight to my hair, sliding the palm of my right hand between your supple breasts, down to your stomach almost to the pitch of your sex.

Again your breath is caught, but your lips never leave mine. With your free hand you pull up your dress allowing me access to your stomach. My hand sliding across your stomach to the top of your green panties and back to back up to your dress bound chest, never touching your sex with each kiss the pressure of my touch strengthens as does your grip on me. Playing with your hip bones and circling each slowly then returning to your flat stomach, teasing and taunting you, while I still have the control to. Drinking in each moan and sigh from your lips.

I rise up from your lips, again picking you up, there is a storm brewing. Carrying you inside up to my bedroom, setting you on the bed, I bound your legs to the bed frame. Untie your dress, freeing your chest your nipples erect and tugging against your perfectly shaped and sized breast. Binding your wrist as I did your ankles, I pull the egg from a drawer and slip between your wet panties and slickened sex.

"Setting one should do for now"

The room goes dark and I step away, forcing you to orgasm against the toy. Free from my touch for ten or fifteen minutes. The room echo's of your moan, the air is thick with the smell of your sex. The lights come back on and the warmth of the egg is soon replaced by cold of steel, sliding the back side of my knife against you, cutting your new panties free of your body.

"What a beautiful sight, your body wet and full of desire solely mine tonight, mine to take and have as I choose!"

"Your swollen sex and full lips glistening from your forced orgasm, your body begging for my touch, this is beauty perfected!"

Standing to the right of the bed, I undress. Exposing how much my tempting you has turned me on. This is the last thing you see as a pull a blindfold from the drawer that held the egg. With your vision gone, your body rises with more passion and heat with each touch of the egg still going from its previous forced orgasm duty.

Down in the kitchen I pour a glass of wine, smiling at the naked woman on the bottle of Other. A second glass full of ice and a plate of pasta is with me when I return to your side.

"Are you hungry?"

The restraints' around your ankles loosen as does the binds of your wrist. Sliding you into a seated position with your back pressed against the headboard. The wrist restraints again return, now pulling your arms out slightly above your head. The egg now quite following the patch of glistening wet hair your swollen lips, hips rising pressing against this object of forced orgasm, red rope replaces the green panties, pulled taught between your checks riding deep between your lips holding the egg prisoner.

"Are you hungry beautiful?"

The rope is already wet and moving side to side, yet the egg is still silent for the moment. Taking the pasta one bite at a time, blindfold still over your eyes, around the 9th or 10th bite of pasta, I bring the egg to life. Powered all the way up for a moment then back off, this torture is continued throughout your naked dinner in my bed. Always watching and bringing up the wine when you look thirsty.

"You will not orgasm; I have not had release in months. You can wait till I give you permission."

Replacing the food and wine with an ice cube, I press it to your lips and follow the soft line of your chin, around and down the sides of your neck. Across your collarbones, down between your firm and full, aching breast. Each movement of the ice is followed by the warmth of my breath, never letting my lips touch the smooth heated skin under the ice. Without warning, and with your mind fully engaged in the ice and wine, the egg comes to life. This time turned all the way down, placing my lips to yours and taking each moan and calls of pleasure from your soul, driving me further and further over the edge. As I pull back from your lips, the smile on your face is plain to see and understand, you know even blindfolded that I am standing painfully erect.

Again the cold steel blade is slid between you and your new panties, freeing you from the rope but not the egg. Taking the rope to my lips tasting your sweet juices' on it, lowering my head to your sex, spreading your slicked lips, gliding my tongue up and down your slit, feeling the egg working inside of you, ticking my tongue. Sucking your hardened clit into my mouth, caressing it with my tongue, nibbling it, your legs fighting there restraints, trying to wrap around my head. Your moans drive me to lick and suck faster and harder, lapping up your juices' as they flow from your body. Pushing my index finger deep inside your tight sex, sucking your clit deep into my mouth while massaging you sheath.