This Game of Italian Silk & Leather Restraints

A gentle breath wisped over my ear and I knew I wasn't alone. It wasn't unusual for him to appear randomly in the middle of the night, though; in fact, it was rather common. He had a key to the apartment- and my heart- and that was just how our relationship went.

"You awake?" he inquired softly, running a hand through my newly trimmed tresses. He had never seen me with short hair, and clearly his touch told that he was shocked. Perhaps even, intrigued.

I nodded, rubbing my face slowly into my pillow.

He grinned at this, continuing to twirl his long fingers in my hair. "I thought I'd stop by."

I nodded again. He always stopped by when he was in town. I expected it, looked forward to his random intrusions. He knew I would never object, and a part of me suspected that he also knew that I enjoyed waking up pressed into his body.

"You know," he began, rolling closer, his hot breath tingling my ear. "My birthday is in a few days."

My breath hitched in my throat, my heartbeat raced.

"Do you know what I want for my birthday?" he cooed lightly and I could feel his strong hands kneading the flesh of my thighs. "There's something I've been dreaming about," he continued, kissing up my neck. He paused to nibble on my ear. "Something I want more than anything this year, and you're the only one that can give it to me," he rasped. His breath was hot, his body was warm. I could feel his heat emanating through me. I wanted to push back against him and feel his hardness, wanted to taste him and touch him and be up all night in his arms.

He stopped at that moment, and laughed softly. His hands traveling up my body to cup my breasts. "Say yes," he demanded, allowing a hand to wrap lightly around my throat. "Say yes and I will dominate you and make you my own."

There was no other answer to give. He needn't have asked.

* * *

"So," he grinned as he guided me, arm-in-arm, into the posh suite. "The guys paid for this shit for tonight. Can you believe that?" he questioned, amusement clear on his masculine face as he dropped my hand and spun around the room in awe. "This is the main room," he noted as he tossed his body onto a sofa that looked, lightly put, more expensive than my car. His laugh snapped me back to reality. "There's a bedroom," he winked. "And a bathroom, complete with Jacuzzi tub. We can put that to some use."

I nodded and set my purse on a small oak table. "So we have tonight," I pondered aloud. One night and it held so very many possibilities. I had never been on the road with him, never even seen his band perform. He was a musician and I was just his neighbor, and there was a clear separation there previous to tonight. I would lust for him and concoct long, seductive fantasies about the realities of his profession. I knew he had money, but I had never once considered this. Or this situation: expensive suite at the top hotel in one of America's largest cities, his birthday, and I am the entertainment.

Pretty woman for a night.

He's bouncing around on Italian silk sofas drinking Corona. I'm standing here in six inch Prada heels wearing a ridiculous gown made by some French designer...and I've paid for none of this. In fact, my total expenditures so far tonight total the $5 cab fare I paid to get from my apartment to this hotel where he was waiting. Where he was waiting with the gown and the heels, champagne and roses.

For his birthday.

"So," he grinned and I quickly realized that he was no longer testing out the firmness of various furniture in the room. He was standing beside me, whispering into my ear. "Do you like the room?" he questioned softly.

I nodded. "It's gorgeous. What girl wouldn't?"

He licked my cheek. "I'm glad you like it."

I shrugged.

"Go into the bedroom," he instructed. "Put on what's on the bed."

"What if I don't want to?" I questioned with a smirk.

His expression showed that he had never considered that I might disagree. He shrugged. "This is all just a game and you are a willing participant, right?"

"I am," I nodded and stepped away from his warmth to exit toward the bedroom. "And I'll go change now."

He licked his lips. "Perfect."

* * *

The box on the bed was small; it was a white box, so petite that it was obvious it housed lingerie. Nothing else could fit inside its miniscule walls. I laughed to myself at the grin he had across his face when he watched me shut the door, and knew this was obviously going to be something risqué. Something that I would enjoy wearing for him, that he would enjoy me wearing. It was all a part of our game.

Cat & Mouse, if you will.

So I grinned lewdly as I opened the box and searched through the pale pink tissue paper for its contents. A small pink, see-through bralet adorned with a silver heart was the first item I pulled from inside. It was small, too small for my large chest. No doubt, he had intended that.

"Bastard," I laughed.

The next item was equally pale pink: a pair of vintage panties with a fully ruffled behind. "How cute," I giggled. I hadn't known that he enjoyed the innocent look, nor that he considered the color pink to be such a turn on. Strange how men have a way of surprising you like that.

The last item was a note, a quick scribble of his handwriting that directed me to put on the bralet and panties and nothing else. "No shoes, no jewelry, just these items."

"Okay baby," I taunted as I stood up and began to remove the expensive gown. "I can do that."

"Good," came an amused laugh from across the room. I hadn't seen him sitting there until he stood up and approached me, guiding the back zipper of my gown dangerously low. "I like that you're cooperating."

I nodded and stared into his soft brown eyes.

"You don't know me," he stated softly, in nearly a whisper as he guided the gown off my shoulders, and down to the floor. "I won't tell you my name, but I'm a friend of Paul's," he continued as I stepped out of the gown and stood before him naked. "That's all you need to know."

I nodded in agreement.

He stepped back and admired my exposed body, as I admired his clothed one. He was tall, over 6', with beautiful porcelain skin and soft brown eyes. His head was shaved clean of any traces of hair, and I wondered if he was a brunette or a blonde. He wore loose-fitting blue jeans that hung low on his small hips; he was lanky. His white t-shirt was equally large on his small frame, and in my estimation, he was no more than my own twenty-five years. Probably younger.

"You're beautiful," he grinned. His voice was soft, his accent unfamiliar. No doubt, a state that I had never visited nor would I ever have reason to discover.

I nodded again, and this caused him to smile.

"He told you not to speak," he smiled.

I nodded.

"Good," he offered softly, sitting on the bed and handing me the lingerie. "Put these on."

I did as I was instructed, struggling a bit with the tiny bralet. He stood, stepped forward and helped me with the clasp. Once fixed into place, my breasts were tightly confined inside the fabric; my nipples hard from the pressure and the knowledge that my wardrobe was entirely see-through. I was dressed, but he could see every inch of me. Surely, that had been the intention of the outfit and I had to grin at the cunning of...

"Did he buy this?" I questioned, then realized I had spoken without permission.

He shook his head. "I bought it," he whispered as he approached me and wrapped his arms gently around my waist. "I bought it and I intend to tear it off you."

I nodded.

"You may speak," he laughed, bending down enough to run his nose over my neck. "When you're with me, you may speak as much as you like."

I nodded to this too.

"You smell amazing," he complimented, wrapping me up in his strong arms. "Are you wearing perfume?"

I nodded.

"I'm going to carry you over to the bed," he informed me with a sly smirk. "Then I'm going to jump on top of you and rip your clothing off."

"I'm not wearing much," I grinned.

"Oh good," he smiled back, kissing my lips lightly. "That’ll make things go faster.”

He did as he had warned, carrying me over to the bed and placing me softly onto the mattress. He leaned over me, taking a few moments to stare down into my eyes. I liked him, though I didn't know anything about him. It's easy to like someone you don't know, I find; and that was clearly the case with this man. He was attractive and gentle, sweet and considerate. That was sufficient for our purposes.

"He's going to videotape," he whispered in my ear after the silence. "Is that okay?"

I nodded.

"I like women who are vocal," he laughed, reaching down and snaking his hand inside my panties. "So you could make some noise for me, that'd be okay."

He knew I would not be able to resist his temptations and with his finger slowly encircling my clitoris, I began to coo. Lost in the sensation of those long fingers working inside my already moist folds, I didn't realize that Paul had entered the room, camcorder in hand. The light of the camera bathed us in a soft green glow, my eyes shut tight against the pleasure of the intrusion and the nervous anxiety of being filmed.

"You've never been filmed before, have you?" Paul questioned, amusement in his brown eyes as he sat on the bed beside us.

His friend scissored his fingers inside me, then placed his thumb onto my clitoris and I saw blue stars and crystals cascade across my eyelids. I wanted to scream at him to continue, to grab his smooth, bald head and force his tongue inside me. Instead, I was left to hover in that state of euphoric pleasure as he conversed with Paul.

"She's shy," he offered softly. "That's sweet."

Paul shook his head and laughed. "She's not shy. Are you, baby?"

I nodded.

Paul shook his head again. "You like that, don't you? You like when he touches you like that?"

I nodded again, emitting a soft moan.

This time, Paul simply laughed and returned to his filming. The fingers inside me sped their pace, as I felt my panties being tugged down. "You don't need these," he grinned. Then he offered, softly, "I'm Chris, by the way."

"I thought we weren't using names?" I questioned.

He shrugged. "I figure if I a lady's willing to let me play, I should be willing to share my name?" It was more of a question than an answer. Either way, I liked his affections and didn't want to continue the conversation much further. Fingering first, questions later.

For his part, Chris seemed to understand and he continued with his manipulations. He worked a hand underneath the bralet, massaging a breast before trying to move to the other side of my chest. When that failed, he tore the bralet away with a grin. "Woops," he smirked.

"She likes rough stuff," Paul offered. "Don't be shy with this one."

Chris nodded and tossed the flimsy material away from my writhing body.

"Can I?" I questioned, reaching up for his the fly of his jeans. He nodded and I tugged slowly on the zipper. Slowly pushing the denim down over his hips, I realized that he was wearing no underwear. He smirked at this, and sat back as I tugged the jeans to the floor. When I commented on his impressive size, he blushed.

"Make it good and dirty," Paul instructed from behind the lens. "That's what I want to see."

* * *

We lay in a tangle of bodies on top of the untouched, gorgeous blood red satin sheets. Chris wheezing slightly as he slept to my right, Paul playing with his camcorder to my left. Clearly, he was rewatching pieces of the XXX footage.

"I never knew you liked pink," I finally stated, rolling to face my lover.

Paul laughed. "I don't."

My expression must have betrayed my next question, so he placed the camcorder on the bedside table and sighed. "My fantasy was to watch you, acting out Chris' fantasy with him. I wanted to videotape."

"And you did," I smiled.

He nodded. "Chris' fantasy was to make love to a voluptuous stranger in a hotel bed while being watched."

"Somehow, that worked out perfectly," I smirked at Paul. The entire ordeal too orchestrated to even feel real.

He nodded again. "It's amazing how well choreographed fantasies can be with a little work." He sighed loudly and reached onto the table, finding then immediately lighting up a cigarette. "I never planned for you to know Chris' name. He improvised that part."

"Who is he?" I questioned, though I was never really sure if I had cared much for the answer.

Paul grinned. "Drummer of my band."

I smirked. "I always loved the rhythm section."

Paul laughed at this, then exhaled a large gray cloud of nicotine. "I'm glad you're enjoying yourself, kitten, because I have much more in store for you."

I was somewhat shocked by this, having thought the night would be over shortly. It was 3am, the video was shot, Chris was asleep, and the hotel room was paid for the one night. It seemed an appropriate ending to the night, lying in bed as Paul smoked his last cigarette. I could feel his cum slowly leaking out onto my thighs, in fact. That had signaled the end of the night to me. Or at least, the need for a shower.

He answered my unspoken questions, with a sly grin. "There's a box in the bathroom," he directed. "Go in there, shower, then open the box."

I nodded and watched him wrap his plush lips around his cigarette.

He exhaled and continued. "I want you to wear what's in the box-"

"I've heard this before," I smiled sweetly, batting my eyelashes for effect.

He shook his head slowly, tsking my coquettishness. "You wear what's in the box," he repeated. "There's a pair of shoes in the bathroom, as well. Wear those. I'll give you a jacket before we leave."

"We're leaving?" I questioned, a bit shocked at the idea.

He nodded. "You don't need to know where we're going though. That doesn't matter."

I climbed off the bed and headed toward the bathroom and another box. Maybe this one would hold purple lingerie, I thought silently. Or red. Or white. Perhaps Paul had a wedding night fantasy we could reenact. Perhaps.

But where were we going?

* * *

This time, the box wasn't so small. Large enough to fit a decent outfit, I thought, and black. So very black. Inside, there was more pink tissue paper and, as I came to find, a fishnet dress. Or, more appropriately put, a piece of fishnet. It had buckles in what I could only assume was the back. No panties, no bra. No anything but a large, buckled piece of fishnet. Was he crazy?

I laughed to myself, realizing that I was crazy as I put the dress on. It fit perfectly, my nipples poking through the little holes and one buckle nestling perfectly between my shoulder blades. Snuggled to every contour of my body, the dress was an amazing fit. I smiled to myself, feeling impressed that he knew me so well; and feeling overcome with a sudden heated desire. I was naked, and he expected me to wear this somewhere. Out.

I searched quickly for the shoes that he'd mentioned, and found them on the floor beside the toilet. They were platforms, easily a good 5" high. I would dwarf him in these, I laughed as I placed them onto my feet. Straps tied up my legs to hold the shoes in place. I tied them as best as I could, then stepped back to admire myself in the full length mirror.

He was crazy.

I must be crazy.

I look like a porn star was my final thought as I opened the door and stepped outside.

* * *

He stared at me for a few moments, a deliciously naughty smirk painting across his lips. "You look fucking amazing," he breathed. "Better than I could have ever dreamed."

I mocked a curtsy and blushed. "Thank you. This is, umm, this outfit is-"

"My idea," he grinned. "I found it in a little S&M shop downtown."

I nodded. "You shop in S&M shops often?"

It was his turn to blush. "Occasionally. You want to complain about that?"

I grinned and shook my head. I had no complaints whatsoever.

"So," he smiled sweetly, holding an oversized jacket out toward me. "This is where my fantasy begins."

I took the jacket- clearly one of his own- and did my best to cover up. The early October air was already chilled, and what with my lack of attire, I was afraid of freezing if we went outdoors.

He sighed. "We are going out," he answered me. "It's cold out so I'll try not to keep you out for too long."

I nodded. "Where are we-"

"No," he interrupted. "For this part of the night, you don't speak unless I tell you too. Understood?"

I nodded.

I watched him grab his wallet and a pack of cigarettes, stuffing both items into his oversized pants’ pocket. He grinned and grabbed my hand, leading me out the door and down the long hallway to an elevator. My immediate thought was that Paul fantasized about sex in elevators, and that any moment he would press the "Stop" button and we would ravage one another inside the small metal box.

When that didn't happen and we were outdoors waiting for a Taxi, I theorized that perhaps Paul would pull me onto his lap once we were inside the vehicle and we would make love there as an oblivious stranger drove us around Downtown. Paul seemed to tap into my thoughts, shaking his head as we climbed into the yellow sedan. "No," he smirked. "But that's a nice thought."

Millions of ideas ran through my head like a filmstrip as we drove around the City, and I wondered if perhaps Chris was back in the room preparing some great orgy and Paul was simply stalling for time. Though the idea seemed far-fetched, he had called Chris multiple times on his cell phone throughout our ride. I could hear them talking, hear Chris making references to "the Plan" and whether or not Paul had fully executed "the Plan". I simply sat in silence, the thought of finally being privy to "the Plan" eating away at me minute by minute.

Just when I finally thought I might burst, Paul directed the cab driver to an address and began peering out his window curiously. Within minutes, the Taxi pulled to the curb and we were outside in the blistery coldness of the night. I felt my nipples react to the temperature, and knew that I was poking straight out of the fishnet. I laughed at this, gaining a strange look from Paul as he guided me down an alley and away from the bustle of the busy City streets.

It was dark and damp, cold and black. He pushed me against a brick wall and cupped his hand over my mouth, before leaning forward to breath in my ear. "Be quiet," he demanded. "Don't make a sound."

I nodded and though I tried to hide it, I was sure I had some element of concern in my eyes. He reached a hand up under my jacket and placed two fingers immediately inside me. I was moist from the anticipation, and I could not control the moan that escaped my lips.

"I said be quiet," he warned, pushing me harder into the bricks. "Now, I'm going to fuck you right here like this. You're going to like it and you're going to beg me for more."

I nodded, understanding.

"When I'm done with you," he grinned, "we're going to go inside this building and your surprise will be waiting inside. Do you understand?"

I nodded.

He grinned lewdly at this, then kicked my legs further apart. He pressed my body firmly into the wall and tore the jacket off tossing it to the ground. I was exposed to the utter chill of the air, aware that my nipples had been hard for some time. They ached to be touched, though I knew that my pleasure was not part of this fantasy. He was going to take me roughly, quickly, and with as little regard for my body as possible. I was the streetwalker in fishnet, the harlot in the alley brought there solely for his sexual pleasure.

He shoved up inside me roughly, I cried up and he slapped me. A warning. I whimpered at his touch, whimpered as he shoved up inside me so roughly my head slapped the brick. He was clutching my hips so tight, I knew there would be bruising tomorrow. He growled in my ear, he bit my neck. I tried not to make a sound. Tried not to react and run my hands up his muscular back. I wanted to. I wanted to kiss him, wanted to fall to the ground together where I could be on top and ride him.