Apartment Stories Ch. 06

It took a lot to sit back down in my chair, leaving her naked in the middle of the living room. At last, I said, "Come."

She approached with small steps and stood before me. I could smell a perfume that I couldn't place.

There's a certain muscle memory to dominance. I felt myself entering the zone, attuned to the micro-expressions that passed over her face.

I took her hand and placed it on my lap. From a bag next to me, I withdrew a wrist cuff and held it up to her so that she could see it. Thick leather with three chromed loops. Her breath faltered and the corner of her mouth twitched. Not a frown, but not a smile either. I fastened the cuff and then repeated the process with the other wrist.

"Ankle," I said, tapping my thigh where her hand had been.

She raised her foot and set it where I'd indicated. The heel poked my thigh. She placed a hand on my shoulder for balance. Oh, to feel that small, delicate hand on my bare skin.

With her four limbs cuffed, she asked, "Aren't you getting undressed too?"

"Later."

She looked as though she were having doubts. The power imbalance sometimes did that.

"You have a safeword. If you're at all uncomfortable, physically or emotionally, all you have to do is say it and I'll stop. Are you okay?"

Our eyes met and I could see some of the trepidation ease from her face. "I'm fine."

"Good." I rose and raised her chin with my hand. I planted a kiss on her lips and I felt her relax further. "Let's go the bedroom. Let's see if I'm the sex Yoda you were hoping for."

Some years ago, I'd built a St Andrew's cross that was designed to be dismantled and hidden in the closet for when friends and relatives visited, to spare them the horror of what we got up to behind closed doors. In honor of Hazel's visit, I'd assembled it and leaned it against a wall.

I wasn't sure whether I'd use it or simply display it as a symbol of my bona fides.

She approached it curiously and traced the grain of the wood with her fingertip. "I'd like to try this."

I admired her curiosity, but questioned her trust in me as I'd done nothing to earn it. But gift horses.

"How do you want me?"

I could count the ways, but said, "Face me."

She turned and positioned herself in front of the cross, spread her legs and raised her arms. She grinned. Her playfulness was back. "Like this?"

My throat tightened at the sight. All that smooth skin, those firm muscles. Breasts that lifted becomingly in this position. All of it offered voluntarily to me. What had I done to deserve this gift? I didn't trust myself to speak, so I just nodded instead.

Her cuffs were already in position, so it was nothing to fasten four snap hooks to the cuffs' rings and the cross's eyebolts. Hazel tested the restraints and I think it was then that she realized just how vulnerable she'd become.

"It's fine," I said. "Relax."

I considered it bad form to flog someone on a first date, not that I'd ever had the opportunity to do so before now. That left impact play out, even if she'd indicated that she'd like to try it. Baby steps.

"I'm going to blindfold you."

"Okay."

With those lovely hazel eyes hidden from view, I considered my options. There was a lot I could do, but the list of what I reasonably should do was a lot shorter.

I opted for simplicity, subtlety. An intro, maybe, that would make her want to come back. I approached and stood before her for a minute. She must have been aware of my proximity as her breathing became shallow and expectant.

I blew a thin stream of air at one nipple and then the other and watched in amazement as they hardened to tight little peaks surrounded by a constellation of goose pimples. She exhaled and shifted against her restraints. Metal rattled against metal. I then repeated the process on her inner thighs, stopping just short of her mound. This time, a small whimper escaped her lips and I marveled at her sensitivity.

"Touch me please," she whispered.

Ordinarily, I wouldn't take orders like this, but this wasn't an ordinary situation so I let it pass. Instead, I obeyed and ran the backs of my fingers down the outside of one arm and then the other as lightly as I could. Then I traced the contours of her torso with my fingertips, the touch again as feather-light as I could manage. She squirmed. I knew that this kind of teasing, though subtle, could be as impactful as floggers or crops. Then my touch descended the outsides of her legs and finally the insides, stopping just short of their apex. At this, Hazel caught her lower lip between her teeth.

They say that a dog's sense of smell is more than 10,000 times stronger than a human's. If I could detect the heady aroma of arousal from her already, a dog would probably reel under sensory overload.

I went to the trunk that contained all of my paraphernalia. So many choices, but one in particular jumped out at me.

"This might tickle," I said on my return.

With that, I navigated her body as I had before -- arm, torso, leg and then the reverse on the other side. This time, though, I replaced my fingers with a Wartenburg wheel. And though the wheel barely grazed her skin, the first touch of those sharp points caused her to yelp in surprise before she settled in again. After I'd traced her outline, I set the wheel lightly against the skin of her neck. She held her breath and I allowed the wheel to descend from her throat to her sternum, then stomach, stopping at the upper margin of her mound.

"What is that thing?" she gasped.

In answer, I placed the wheel on the upper slope of her right breast and ran it slowly down, crossing the nipple and stopping beneath the gentle curve of her breast. I repeated the action on the other side before focusing on each nipple for a while, running the wheel over each, at first lightly, then with a little more pressure.

Then I moved to the insides of her legs. This time, she sought to evade the sharp points, tottering on her heels, swaying her hips, widening her legs. There was, of course, no escape.

"I'm tingling."

'That, Hazel, is the idea."

I set the wheel aside and stepped right up to her. I positioned my thigh so that it pressed against her pubic bone. She met the pressure with her own, moving against my thigh as much as she could.

At this, I retreated and grasped her nipples between thumbs and forefingers and pinched them, not too hard, but not lightly either. A yelp and a sharp intake of breath. Still toying with her right nipple, I allowed my right hand to drift down her torso, navigating that smooth skin down her abdomen, down to the short stubble of her pubic hair, and then further to cup her pussy. I felt the heat there and the slick, inviting wetness. I slid my fingers through it, my middle finger pressing against the clitoris before running a shallow furrow between her labia. Then more deeply before I inserted it and pressed it against the roof of her pussy. She sagged against the restraints, perhaps losing control, perhaps trying to drive my finger more deeply into her.

"Stay put," I said.

Back to the trunk. I'd plotted the progression in my mind and so far, Hazel had responded just as I'd imagined.

I retrieved a cordless wand vibrator. Kneeling before her, I touched the bulb to her pussy. Then I turned it on. The reaction was immediate, like an electric shock. A sharp intake of breath and a sharp exhalation that carried the words: "Oh, fuck."

The snap hooks rattled in their eye bolts as her limbs fought the restraints.

Her hips moved in a dance that was both captivating and arousing. Her body was on autopilot now and I held the vibrator as steady as possible, letting her find the spots that pleased her most. Into that vibrating wetness I inserted first one finger and then another. I reached up, finding the roof of her vagina and pinned her between my fingers and the vibrator.

It didn't take long for small animal sounds to emanate from Hazel. All the while, her hips swayed and hitched. I followed each movement, not letting up on the vibrator or my insistent fingers.

Then finally, with a guttural moan, she came.

I had to stand to hold the top of the cross to the wall, her spasms threatening to topple it over. I managed to keep the vibrator in position and she continued to grind against it.

Her climax seemed to go on forever, more so for her than for me.

At last she gasped, "Please, please stop."

I kept it up for a moment longer, eliciting another quivering moan.

By this point, Hazel sagged against the restraints, her hair curtaining her face. She gasped for breath. Even without the vibrator, she quivered with the aftershocks. By sheer force of will, she straightened.

"You're a dangerous man," she said.

I released Hazel's wrists from the cross and her hands found my shoulders for support. As I bent to unclip her ankles, her hands spidered down my back. I left the snap clips attached to the cuffs. When I was finished, she leaned into me, her legs none too steady and coltish in her heels, looking disheveled, happy, and intent.

"Wowie, Yoda."

She was gloriously flushed and a sheen of perspiration gleamed on her skin.

"You're still dressed." She moved to unbutton my shirt. "May I?"

"Please."

She worked on the buttons and the snap clips chimed in the loops of the cuffs as she moved. I felt a moment of dissociation. How quickly life can change, from being wrapped up in my own drama to feeling like an actor in an alternate universe in which I could be with a woman like this.

And before I knew it, I was shirtless and her small, warm hands were around my neck. She rose up on her toes and kissed me. Her breasts flattened against me and I felt the points of her nipples against my skin and the warmth of her body.

She made fast work of my pants and underwear and my cock gratefully sprang free.

"Time for me to dominate you," she said.

That wasn't how it usually worked, I wanted to say, but my hunger and curiosity won out.

She pushed me to the bed, her desire and playfulness evident. She commanded me to lie down and be still. Then she stepped back and just looked at me. I was reminded of the carnal objectification that I'd subjected her to, and probably like her I wondered whether I measured up.

Then she knelt next to me, one knee pressed against my side.

She grasped my cock in a light grip. "For me?"

Her touch robbed me of speech. It had been so long since I'd enjoyed the touch of a woman that I'd forgotten how heady it could be.

She set about teasing me as I had her. I remained resolutely immobile, letting her play. Her fingertips and nails lightly danced over my body, awakening it. Like her, I squirmed. Like her, I moaned a little.

When she was satisfied that I was all there and ready, she said, "Tell me how I can please you."

Oh, God. The mental pictures of every variation of carnality flashed through my mind like a slideshow. Whatever I said, she would do. I had no doubt.

In the end, I said, "I want in you. Now."

She swung a leg over me and pressed her body to mine. Her hair tickled my chin. Her hands stroked up my forearms, still immobile. Kisses peppered my chest. Moist breath warmed my skin. For a long while, she did nothing more. I was more than fine with that.

At length, she said, "Alright." She repositioned herself and held my wrists to the mattress on either side of my head. I could have escaped easily, of course, but didn't want to.

She moved her hips to align her pussy with my cock. I shifted a little to make it easier for her but she gave me a stern look and a shake of her head. She wanted to do this on her own, hands free, with no help from me. And so my focus narrowed on my cock and the promising warmth of her pussy, so tantalizingly close, so aggravatingly remote. She pressed and shifted. All the while, my cock remained resolutely on the soft, slippery margins. I went nearly out of my mind. She was either singularly inept or a brilliant agent of torture.

"Mercy," I gasped.

She laughed, playful and satisfied that I'd capitulated. With practiced ease, she moved just so and the crown of my cock found its home, enveloped in warmth and delicious tightness.

"Better?"

"Almost."

She moved a little lower. "This good?"

"Mmm."

She lowered herself completely. "How's that?"

I didn't answer. I couldn't. I was lost.

She remained still. But all around my cock, muscles clenched and released, clenched and released.

Ever so slowly, she moved until only the tip remained embedded in her. Muscles tightened. I made small animal noises too.

Teasing over, she lifted her torso, placed her hands to my chest and began to fuck me in earnest.

"May I move my hands now?"

"Of course," she said, as though she hadn't asked me to lie still.

I quickly reached for her breasts. I played with her nipples and she played with mine. I pinched and she did likewise with her fingernails. All the while, she rose and fell, milked my cock with her clenching muscles.

"I won't last long," I gasped. It had been far too long. All that I'd done with her earlier had stoked the fires. I knew I would flame out too soon.

"That's fine. Next time will be longer."

Next time! There would be a next time!

"But you need to help me come again."

I feared that it would be a race I would lose. Already I felt the tingling pressure and the desire to bury myself to the hilt and flood her insides.

She removed her hands from my chest, leaned back and braced herself on my thighs. The position revealed our union, labia spread tightly around the root of my cock. More importantly, it exposed her clit.

The pad of my thumb found that hidden, pink pearl, awash in her juices. I swirled it over its surface, eliciting a low moan. My other hand kneaded her breast.

She moved shallowly, not wanting to dislodge my thumb.

"Harder," she gasped.

Although I'd already abused her with the vibrator, I did as she asked, pressing and sliding against that insistent bundle of nerves. I quickly learned the spots that made her mewl, the strokes that caused her to quake.

A keening wail. A shuddering body. Clenching muscles. A fresh wash of fluid. A glistening cock that emerged and disappeared into overheated flesh.

I could hold it no longer and joined her gasping music of release. It was an explosion, rendering me light headed and inarticulate. Gouts splashed into her, more than I had ever experienced. I felt emptied.

She fell forward again, her hair tenting my face, her body rendered boneless against mine.

We lay like that for full minutes. I softened. Fluid leaked out, coating my balls.

Still she didn't move. Nor did I.

"We've made a mess of your bed," she said finally.

We showered together, not really talking, just intent on cleaning up and feeling the other's body beneath our hands. Once dry, we returned to the bedroom where we found a dry edge of the bed. We lay there, limbs entwined, tired and satisfied.

"That wasn't what I expected," she said.

"What did you expect?"

She played with the hair on my chest. "To be used. Shit, that sounds bad." Then she added, "For your pleasure."

"I'm not about that."

"I see that now. It's better this way."

More time passed. I could have slept but didn't want to deprive myself of the moment.

"We could do this again if you'd like," she said later. "I enjoyed it."

"Me too," I said. In truth, Hazel had breathed some life into me. A nice change from the suspended animation of the last few months.

"I know that you're sick," she said a while later.

The words stilled my hand.

"I'm a nurse. I've seen the before and after and I recognized the signs in you."

"Oh."

"Don't think for a moment that pity was part of it. Fact is, I wanted you. I'd fantasized about you for a while."

"No pity?" It hurt to imagine even the possibility.

A long pause. "Maybe a little," she admitted. "Is that okay?"

I didn't answer right away. I was conflicted. Pity left me cold. She made me warm.

"I'm sorry," she said. "Forgive me?"

The last words sounded so plaintive, so lost. Something shifted in me.

"I'd like to get to know you better," I said.