Rock and Water Ch. 04

I smile at his own anxiety and concerns about us. His honesty and vulnerability are refreshing.

"I would, and I will.... This means a lot to me too."

He lets out a deep sigh and we discuss our plans for tomorrow evening. Addie's plane for Newark departs at 9:30pm; with permission from the airline I'm staying in the gait with her until she boards. Since it'll be too late to do much else, we decide he'll just come over and maybe watch a movie.

We continue to talk about both inconsequential and at times heavy topics until it's close to 1am. He's intelligent, funny, and sexy as hell. I feel like I could talk to him all night, but my eyelids are drooping and my voice is thick with sleep.

"It's time for sleep my sweet girl." My body purrs at the warmth in his voice.

"Goodnight Patrick." I wait to see if he's ok with my not calling him Sir at this point. It would seem that he is when he quietly says, "Good night Corrine."

***

Addie and I spend her last day in town walking along the river that cuts the city in half; stopping at a crafts festival to buy some trinkets for her grandparents in London. We go to our favorite taqueria for dinner before we head to the airport. During dinner I tell her I've been on a date with a new man, Patrick, and that we seem to mutually like one another and plan to see each other again. She seems genuinely excited for me, but I know she's a little wary about bringing someone into our lives.

At the airport we're a jumble of excitement about her trip and anxiety about being apart for the summer, minus my visit in July. As her flight begins to board, I remind her to call me when her flight lands in Newark. She argues that it'll be the middle of the night for me and I tell her that I don't care. I hold back my tears until she walks down the jet way and boards her plane. By the time I get home I'm sad and subdued. Patrick and Guinness arrive shortly thereafter and find me in this state.

As soon as the front door closes behind him, he drops two bags on the floor and takes me in his arms. "My poor girl. I can't imagine how this would feel." We just stand there holding one another quietly for a few minutes. I appreciate that he's not trying to distract or console me from my sadness; content just to hold me and allow me to be sad for as long as I need to.

I finally break the hold and give him a small smile. "Thank you for that... I needed it."

He reaches in to one of the bags and pulls out a bottle of red wine and some dark chocolate. He looks a little sheepish. "I know it looks like I've just walked in with a handful of aphrodisiacs, but honestly I just love red wine and chocolate."

I laugh. "I don't think you have to worry about seducing me at this point anyway. Consider me seduced."

He laughs too and we head into the living room, grabbing a few glass tumblers that look like jelly jars on the way. I decided a long time ago that wine glasses were a pain to wash and always breaking. I still have some for special occasions, but for a quiet night like this, I prefer something that can be loaded into a dishwasher.

After the initial excitement of seeing each other, Griffin and Guinness settle down. Guinness makes himself comfortable on Griffin's dog bed, while Griffin lays down with a loud thump and an even louder sigh next to it.

Patrick and I sit next to each other on my worn, but comfy dark rose velvet couch. Despite feeling a bit at a loss tonight, it's nice to have him here and I suddenly have a few butterflies in my stomach. Things feel like they're moving fast, but I couldn't imagine any other way at this point. There's an ease between us that makes it feel like we've known one another much longer than just a little over a week. Perhaps it was the mutual stalking at the gym over the past months...

Like the night before on the telephone, we talk about everything under the sun. The Pinot Noir is perfect, and the small bites of dark chocolate are decadent. I like that he's partial to a little indulgence now and then. I'm definitely seeing the trend of chocolate, and make a mental note to take him too my friend Brian's studio for a tour. He makes small-batch chocolate from bean to bar and sells it locally. I tell Patrick about this and his eyes light up like a kid on Christmas day.

By the time we finish just one glass of wine, I'm resting my head on his chest and he's got his arm snug around me, rubbing gentle circles on my back. My hand absentmindedly plays with the hem of his dark green Henley. We stay like this, in silence, for a few minutes. My mind and body are so relaxed that I jump a little when he speaks.

"When we spoke last night and you told me about your collection of toys, you didn't mention anything about restraints."

A small chill runs through my body at the thought of being restrained by Patrick. It feels like fear at first, but it courses straight through my core to my pussy which responds with an involuntary spasm. "Oh... I, uh...don't own any. It didn't seem like I needed them, on the phone that is."

"I brought rope with me to bind your arms tonight." He pauses to let me take in his words. "Years ago I preferred treated hemp...and I plan to buy some soon. I just prefer it aesthetically. For now, I have some rock climbing rope that I no longer use. It's a pretty soft nylon so I don't anticipate any burns to your skin but you'll have to let me know as we go along. It's been a while since I've tied anyone up so I may need to adjust and readjust a few times."

I start to laugh. I'm not sure if it's out of nervousness, or by the fact that once again he's talking as if he's rattling off something he heard on the news today, rather than describing the rope he wants to bind me in.

He smiles warily. "What?"

Still laughing, I choke out, "well, you're talking as if you were reading me today's headlines; not like you were about to tie me up in order to...uh..."

"In order to what?" He still has a smile, but it now looks a little menacing.

Still laughing, I somehow answer with his own words from the other day, "to use me as a fuck toy?"

"To start with, yes... Anything else you find amusing?" He seems a bit exasperated with me.

"I think I should stop there before I get in any more trouble." I'm still holding back a few giggles even at this point. I wipe away some tears that formed and attempt to regain my composure.

"Yes. Perhaps you should...." I can tell he's teasing, but I'm also beginning to realize I may have stepped over the line a little. His embrace is still soft as he plays gently with my hair, but I can feel a little tension in his body.

He turns me to look at him. His expression is soft, but laced with concern. "I know this is a little new to you, and I can understand that you're nervous, but how is it I should talk to you as we discuss bondage; about all of this? Should I be standing over you with you on your knees? Should I make my voice low and authoritative and punctuate each word with a slap to your ass?"

I see his point and feel a little embarrassed because I think we both know I'd like just that, but for now it's a much safer forum to discuss it openly before we head to the bedroom. I feel badly that I couldn't just hear him out when it's obvious how important this is to him.

"I'm sorry Patrick... You're right. It's better that we talk openly about our, um... kink before we get started. I hope I didn't kill the mood."

"No, you didn't kill the mood, but you will redeem yourself for me." I'm not sure what he has in mind, but it would seem he has a clear image because I can feel his cock getting hard under my bottom.

I turn around to face him, straddling his lap. I attempt to speak again, but he quiets me. We sit like this for a few minutes, my head on his shoulders; his arms snug around me. Without warning, he effortlessly picks me up and deposits me next to him on the couch.

"Go get the blue duffel bag that I left by the door. When you get back, I do, in fact, want you on your knees in front of me; the bag at your side." His demeanor has shifted. He's calm, but there's a quiet intensity radiating off of his body and it's like a current that penetrates deep to my core. I go retrieve the bag, noting its heavy weight as I walk with it. When I return, I kneel before him. He remains seated but sits up and looks intently at me.

He goes in to a side pocket of the bag, pulls out a piece of paper and hands it to me. "Please read this carefully. Feel free to ask me any questions if you have them."

I look it over, and read that his most recent tests from last month show him to be STD free. "Thank you, Patrick." He smiles and nods.

"Reach into the bag, pull out the rope, then hand it to me." We both know he could easily have done this himself; that having me retrieve my own bindings was both intentional and necessary to set the tone for what's to come.

He watches as I pull out varying lengths of rock climbing rope from the bag. Altogether there are five pieces, ranging from three to ten meters. The cord is approximately 9mm and is blue with a yellow zigzag pattern down its length. I hand them to him one by one, then place my arms at my sides. I begin to tremble a little as I kneel there in my shorts and t-shirt, staring straight in front of me because I'm finding it difficult to look at him. He uses his curled index finger under my chin to draw my gaze to his.

"As I was cutting this rope today, my head was spinning with all the ways I could use it on you; picturing you in all sorts of erotic and compromising positions. There was one image I kept coming back to" He picks up the piece that looks to be around five meters.

He gently releases my chin, then says simply, "take off your shirt and bra."

Despite the order, his voice is warm and filled with compassion. It calms my trembles enough that I can pull my t-shirt of, followed by my simple cotton bra. I expect him to ask for my arms, so I'm surprised when he tells me to raise them above my head.

As I lift my arms, he doubles his cord in two, then reaches behind me, pulling the loose ends through the fold before bringing it around front again. My head shoots up and I look at him in question. I thought he was only going to bind my arms tonight.

"Yes, I'd originally planned to just bind your arms tonight." He gives me a wink and a wicked little smile. "You've inspired me otherwise."

Oh... This must be the redemption he mentioned.

He continues his work, cinching the rope snuggly. The rope is now wrapped above and below my breasts. I can feel him making some adjustments in the back before the two loose ends of rope are draped over my left shoulder. He moves to kneel behind me, checking his work, then reaches over my shoulder to tuck the rope under the coil below my breasts twist it on itself once, before pulling it up and over my right shoulder. Again, I can feel him working behind me as he ties the rope to itself just below my shoulder blades.

The final effect is that there is rope below, above, and in between my breasts. I am acutely aware of each coil with each breath, but I am able to breathe without restriction. The compression around the base of my breasts is creating an exquisite pressure that heats them from within. I look down at his work, and witness my breasts standing firm in front of me, bulging a little due to the confines of the rope. As I watch, their color changes hue to a light pink color, while my areolas and nipples tighten and turn a darker crimson.

I don't even notice when Patrick picks up my t-shirt and pulls it over my head, instructing me to put my arms through the short sleeves. Still in trance at seeing myself in a chest harness I comply without question. I do balk though when he announces it's time to walk the dogs.

I feel a rush of panic course through me. "I... I can't go out there like this. This is my neighborhood. What if..." I can't finish my thought; horrified at the idea that my neighbors would see me like this.

Patrick hears me out patiently, but still walks over to get the dog's leashes. "I know this is pushing your limit regarding public exposure, but I don't think you need to be concerned. It's late, it's dark, and most of your neighbors are asleep. If at any time it becomes too much, just tell me and we'll turn around. No need to even safe word."

I look down at myself, and note that the dark blue t-shirt is roomy enough that the rope is only perceptible if the shirt pulls tightly against my body. My very firm nipples are another story, but as he said it's dark and pretty quiet out there along the side streets.

I nod to Patrick that I'm ok to give it a try. I appreciate that he's given me an out if I need it.

We leash up the dogs and head out in to the night. The early summer evening still has the vestiges of heat from the day, but the air is beginning to cool. Each brush of t-shirt against my nipples causes them to strain against the material, which in turn leads me to inhale sharply. Each deep breath causes the rope to pull snuggly against my skin, creating more pressure in my breasts.

Patrick is casually talking about a house nearby that he worked on, and how much he loves the neighborhood with all of its galleries, coffee shops, and bars. I'm trying to listen, but it's getting progressively more difficult when it feels like all of the blood has figuratively drained from my brain to my chest.

He steers us up to the avenue he was just discussing, and panic sets in again when I consider the street lights and people traffic we'll encounter. He stops us just before we get there and turns towards me. "Relax Corrine. Do this for me."

I look down at my chest. It's obvious I'm not wearing a bra, but the rope is imperceptible. I look up at him and nod. "Just please don't make me go in anywhere."

He smiles. "No worries there. I need to get us both back home soon." Looking down I can see the effect this walk has had on him too.

Being a Saturday night, the street is lively with patrons heading in and out of bars. More than once we're stopped so people could pet the dogs. At these times it was all I could do to hold still and hope a breeze didn't blow against my chest revealing the pattern of rope below the thin material. I'm getting more flushed and turned on by the minute, and as we head back on to the dark residential streets Patrick grabs my waist and crushes our bodies together, claiming my lips with ferocity that steals my breath.

When we pull apart he looks down at me with passion, but also reverence. "That was so fucking hot, sweetheart. Knowing that rope was under your shirt the whole time, for me...." He shakes his head a little, as if he can't quite believe it himself.

As we continue our walk, he puts his hand on my back directly over the harness. Anyone watching would just see a man with his arm around his girlfriend. Through the material of the t-shirt, he clutches the ropes in his fist and pulls just enough to make me more conscious of each breath. We remain this way until we reach the house and he guides me through the front door.

Despite our need, we take care of the dogs first, making sure water bowls are filled and they're settled in before we head to the bedroom and close the door. As soon as we do Patrick drops his bags and pushes me against the door with the whole of his body. Leaning down, he gives me a long, lazy sensuous kiss while I press up on my tiptoes trying to deepen the kiss even more. Reaching behind my head, he fists my hair firmly, tilting it back before releasing my lips.

We stand there staring at each other, both breathing heavily; his hand controlling the movement of my head. His wet tongue is absentmindedly running along his lower lip and it's all I can do to prevent myself from begging him to kiss me again.

"From here on until I say otherwise, call me Sir."

I attempt to nod, realizing I can't. "Yes Sir." Once again just these words alone cause my pussy to swell and begin to soak my underwear.

"I'm going to push you tonight. No farther than I think you're ready to go, but there will be some pain." I notice with those words his eyes growing a little darker, his skin flushing just a little too. "Use your safe words if you need to. Do not hesitate to use them; there will be no disappointment or bad feelings on my part if you do. Tonight is about learning. It's about trust."

By this point my body is visibly trembling with need. My breath coming in short pants. "Yes...Sir, I understand. I'll use my safe words if it feels too much for me to handle, but please, use me; use my body."

With a growl he embraces me tightly with affection, lifting my feet clear off the ground, but once he puts me down the look in his eyes is all business. He steps back and asks me to strip for him. I do, and we both pause to look at my chest once my t-shirt is removed. Despite the long duration, my breasts have remained the light pink color they had been when he first secured me in the harness. I don't know much about Shibari, but it would appear he had applied it well to prevent any damage.

"Go retrieve your toys"

I walk to the closet, and bring out the bag. I shiver with the knowledge that at this time, the contents of the bag are no longer mine to use on myself. These are my toys, my secret. No one besides me has ever seen them, let alone had control of them. Bringing him the bag deepens the exchange of power between us, but as I hand it to him and I see the warmth in his blue eyes, I feel closer to him than ever.

"Thank you, sweetheart."

One by one he pulls out the toys and lays them on my bedside table. Occasionally he stops to scrutinize one, as is the case of the paddle and my large vibrator. He looks at me with a smile as he pulls out the small sack of clothespins, unceremoniously dropping them on the table. I just stand there next to him naked except for the harness, wide eyed, and silent.

"Are you ready to start?"

I quietly nod.

He doesn't move.

"Yes, Sir"

He stands and places the blue duffel on the bed. Opening it, he brings out a section of rope. "Sit on the side of the bed; bring your arms out in front of you."

I do as he asks. It's at this point that I realize I'm completely naked; though he has yet to remove any of his clothes. This alone makes me feel incredibly sexy. It pushes every other role I have in my life out of my head. Mother. Professional. Friend. Daughter. In this moment it allows me to be his submissive, and only that.

As these thoughts swirl through my head, I don't realize that he's coiled the rope five times around each wrist, and has them crossed over each other, bound together. It's not uncomfortable at all, but very effective and visually stunning. He asks me to pull on them and describe what I feel. When I do, I can feel one of the coils tighten a little uncomfortably around my wrist and tell him so. He releases the entire restraint, checks my wrist for any discoloration, then starts over. This time when I pull, there is only uniform snugness with no biting of the rope. Satisfied, he puts the bag back on the floor.

"You look so beautiful to me; your breasts and arms bound like that. The blue is stunning against your skin. It almost makes me rethink the hemp." He continues to gaze admiringly at me, and I feel a warm glow starting and my core radiate through me.

"I'd like to decorate you a little more." He reaches over and grabs the bag of clothespins, pulling out eight of them and placing them next to me on the bed. My mouth drops with a small release of breath, and I can feel my heart rate begin to quicken.

"Go ahead and crawl up on the bed, lie on your back with your arms raised above your head."

Without question, I do as he asks. He lies down on his side facing me, then runs his left hand from my bound wrists, down my arm, brushing his knuckles across the swell of my breast. Goosebumps follow the trail his fingers just created.