The Sensual Life Ch. 05

"Fine," I replied.

Mason took a piece of fabric from the stack that had been folded neatly, but had been shoved onto the floor in our excitement. It was red. Satin. He draped it over my body, so that it flowed over my breasts, across my belly, between my legs and then over my thigh. He took care as to where it fell, but kept meeting my eyes and working slowly, but very certainly.

"I guess you know what I'm getting at," he said, with a quiet laugh.

"Yes. I do," I replied, with a lazy smile.

"You have the look on your face that I want. And, what better way to paintbound handsthan to have a pair in front of me?"

He moved back from me, about a foot or two, looked through a square he made with his hands, then adjusted my arm slightly. He smiled. He picked up the object he had put on the table which was a foot or so from the bed. It was a camera. He moved in close, focused the lens, then clicked the button.

"No one uses real models all the time, you know. I paint from photographs quite a bit, althoughshestarted out in my imagination," he said, looking for another angle and clicking the button again. Then he gave me a look of worry, perhaps thinking I might object. "I promise I will keep these safe," he added. "For my eyes only."

"That's okay," I replied. "I understand."

"Now. If only I can finish the painting without jacking off every time I start working on it," he said, as if he were talking to himself and I couldn't hear him. He said it with a soft chuckle, one that I was growing used to hearing.

Mason set the camera back on the table and walked over to me, kneeling at my side. He reached up to my arm, untying the rope, working diligently as he continued talking.

"Did you enjoy your moderate version of being 'bound'?" he asked as he worked on the knots.

"Yes," I answered, not sure if it was true. It could've been the act, or it could've been the company I was in that excited me. I wasn't sure which.

"I don't do that all the time. I just thought it was something you needed...and might enjoy," he replied. He undid the knots successfully and started unwinding the rope from around my wrists then worked on another knot. My wrists felt cold against the air. They also burned from the tightness they were freed from. "You seem like you would enjoy many things," he added. "Do you know how incredibly wet you get when you're excited?" he asked.

"Do I?" I replied.

"Yes. You do. It's an incredible turn on," he said, letting the rope fall to the floor. "Almost as much as your skin. You make it very hard to maintain control," he said looking down at me and giving that soft chuckle.

He laid down beside me. I nuzzled into his neck, pressing my pussy against his leg and he held my hand on his chest, rubbing my wrists, feeling where the rope had creased the skin.

We laid in silence, and I could smell the magnolia petals that were crushed underneath us mixing with the scent melting wax, sweat, and sex. I was about to fall asleep when Mason broke the silence.

"I have a job for you this summer, if you decide to stay in town after graduation," he said, looking up at the ceiling. "It would involve some travel. And you'd meet some influential people." He rolled around so he could see my face. "It won't pay much, but I can feed you, pay your travel expenses," he said, then raised his eyebrows mischievously and smiled. "And I can keep you well-fucked,"

His eyes were gleaming. This man, ten years older to me, didn't seem like he was. Or I didn't feel ten years younger than him. Somehow, we'd leveled out in the middle. It felt very natural to be with him.

"Yes," I replied.

It felt like I was giving up more than just a few moments tied up with a rope, but it felt good.

Instead of rolling over to sleep, Mason kissed me, then moved down to suck on my breasts. That led to another bout of fucking, as if it sealed the deal. The rest of the night, we alternated between fucking, talking, and resting, and didn't stop until the sun came through the windows in the morning.