Better Ch. 07byMsQuote©
Chapter 7 - Andrea
For as many ways that Michael had a way of spoiling me in the lap of luxury when we're together, I always thrilled and bowled over every time he pulled off the "little" surprises and touches, like the plate of chocolate truffles and the bottle of Taittinger vintage brut. This was definitely going to be a black lace corset, stockings and heels kind of night.
Michael had a glisten in his eye and a gleam in his smile as he came through the door with a medium-sized cardboard box.
"As much fun as we had out today, I'm thinking I should have picked up this package earlier," he said as he tore the box open and pulled out a satiny black sleep mask.
"Gosh, and I thought that smile was for me," I said as he put the mask on me.
"It is, and there's more for a sassy girl like you," he said as he gave me a couple of light smacks on the ass before sitting me on the edge of the bed.
I could hear plastic wrapping being torn away and crumpled from the area of the table on which he laid the box. Then there was the sound of a soft thud and a light metal clang that sounded as if they made contact with the table.
"So, what else do you have for me?" I asked with all my girlish charm.
"You'll find out soon enough," he said as I could hear him ripping through more plastic wrap and placing more similarly sounding items on the table.
Michael gave me a gentle kiss on the lips and glided his hand along the inside of my arm all the way to my wrist. He stopped to hold it firmly as he wrapped a wide, soft leather band around it.
"Oooh! Darling!" I exclaimed. "I thought you didn't have an interest in such implements!"
"Well, you've dropped enough hints over the years, and the more I looked into this, the more I learned this is more all about your pleasure," he said as he heard him secure and tighten the band with some kind of metal fastener. What I didn't expect was the sound of a chain and the metal clicking sound that attached to the band.
"And you know how much I enjoy basking you in pleasure," he added.
I swore I could hear him wink. Or maybe it was that same tone in his voice that he used when he did wink at me. Or had winkful thoughts.
"Here, put your arm like this," he said as he dropped my upper arm and bent my forearm up from the elbow. The chain pulled my arm out bent, slightly stretched out, but rather comfortably when I was able to let it drop from the taut chain.
"I have to admit that I always thought of bondage as being a brutal and barbarian thing, but seeing you like this in this gorgeous lace corset, your lovely legs in those stockings and how they look in those high heels, that you look beyond beautiful," he said as he drew his hand down my other arm, repeated the same routine as the first arm.
I felt a strong pulsing sensation deep in my loins I swore could have been measured on a Richter scale even though he hadn't touched me between my legs yet. He finally got around to barely touching the inside of my thigh, which made me wiggle and shift that usually gave him the signal that I wanted to be touched just a little more forcefully just a finger length away. I knew I could tell him if I really wanted to, but I felt couldn't impress my will with the blindfold on and my arms held in place. It was strange how the loss of my sight and ability to touch put me at his mercy.
As his hands slowly trailed down my leg to my ankle, he spread my leg outward and I felt another leather band being wrapped and secured around my ankle. I heard the familiar clang of the buckles and the chains. If only I could see myself. If only I could see the look on his face.
"My goodness, you are beautiful," he said as I heard him attach the last chain to the ankle of my second foot. "I will have these visions of you like a photo album imbedded in my mind forever."
Now I could understand why he held off giving my lips and the tight opening between my legs the attention they were begging for earlier. His touch wouldn't have been quite as intense as they would be once his hands that were drifting their way back up my legs would reach their final destination. I knew what his fingers, lips and tongue could do, and my deep and heavy breaths tried to convey that. I'm sure he could see what I was feeling by the way my pussy swaggered and swayed in front of him.
Instead, I felt his hands pull away, and I could hear his voice drifting off as he said, "You've been so cooperative. I think you deserve a treat."
I could hear the muffled "pop" of the Taittinger Reserve being opened. I could hear the bubble-laced liquid being poured into a glass.
"Here, my sweet," he said as he tipped the rim of the crystal flute onto my lips. I couldn't think of a more romantic, decadent, and oh-so-wrong way to consume this elixir that popped on my tongue like the lightest of kisses and subtlety iced my throat with its almost sweet liquid dryness.
I opened my mouth like a newly-hatched bird would with its wide open beak and its bobbing head, searching for a worm or a bug from its mother it could not yet see. I swore I could feel the next sip coming to my lips, but this time it was the soft-formed chocolate of a truffle that he let half-way into my mouth, keeping it on my teeth until I bit into it. I held onto the taste of raspberry and chocolate with a hint of espresso linger in my mouth until it completely coated and dissolved down my throat. The flavor and the taste was bigger, bolder and louder than anything I had ever eaten.
Michael brought the glass to my lips again. This time, he sucked on my tongue and my lips as if he was trying to taste any remnants of the wine that was left behind, and then pulled away. I leaned forward to properly finish that kiss, wanting to suck in his tongue and curl around it tightly with the intent to not let it go.
Then I felt the soft and lightest touch of two of his fingers trail on top of my open pussy lips, from the bottom to the top, making a quick and deliberate flip over my clit over the lace of my panties. I let out the biggest sigh over that one brief touch. The nerve endings of my lips and inner walls created a low running buzz from the wetness with which it came in contact. When I realized his hand pulled away and wasn't coming back, I only had the strength and spirit to barely whisper, "More, please."
My body began to tense again as did my breathing. When that didn't work as a cue to touch me, I began to flail my legs.
"If you only knew how hard it is for me not to take that pussy as my own, but I've never seen you more beautiful than you are now," he said. "You're the picture of elegance trapped raw, yearning lust I won't get to see if I have my way with you, but if you'll allow me one small indulgence ..."
His hand trailed up my torso to one of my breasts and slid its way through the top of my corset and squeezed my breast firmly. I threw my head back and let out a low, soft moan. Right before I could completely let out my breath, he pinched my nipple and slipped a finger under the warm and damp crotch of my panties and between my extremely slippery lips. I could swear I was dripping on his finger.
I slid my hips toward him to guide him to probe deeper and clenched my inner walls to lock in his finger. His finger twisted as it tried to pull out. Perhaps he really wasn't in as much control as he thought. Or maybe he was.
I could feel him come face-to-face with me with his lips brushing up against my lips as he mouthed these words: "You really want my tongue to probe you deep inside? To drink from your juices that flow so freely?"
"Yes," I sighed.
He nudged his finger a bit further inside and asked, "Or do you want my finger?"
"Yes!" I commanded.
He slipped a second finger inside, forced both of them inside deeper still with his fingertips pressing on the contours, and asked, "Or do you want two fingers?"
The intensity of what I was feeling was almost more than I could handle. My response was a loud and unequivocal: "Yes!"
My walls clenched tighter as he stroked them in an out. I knew by the soft and loan groan that was coming out of the bottom of my throat that I was about to come hard at any change of touch, rhythm or sound.
A third finger invaded my hole and sent me screaming. I could not contain any level of control inside my body or my mind as his fingers plunged in and out of me and his firm thumb circled over my clit relentlessly. I could feel myself climaxing like never before, but I just couldn't completely let go. I couldn't stop screaming. I couldn't find the end of what I was feeling and I didn't want to, not even when the pace of Michael's probing fingers slowed and pulled out gently one at a time.
When my heart beat and breathing came back to normal, Michael kissed me on the lips and asked in his most tender voice, "Do you need me to unlatch you?"
I nodded. It was only then that I realized that my arms felt achy and sore. He unlatched the wrist cuffs from the chains and my arms dropped limp. He took each arm and moved it back and forth, up and down until they felt flexible and limber again. He gave me sips of champagne until my mouth felt fully hydrated again.
He laid me on my back and kissed me as he took my hands above my head and locked my wrists together. My legs, which were still secured taught at each end of the foot of the bed, exposed the opening to my drenched pussy even wider to him and the cool room air.
"You are a disheveled mess, my dear, and more beautiful than ever," he said, unfastening the chains that secured my ankles at the bottom of the bed.
He pulled my legs together and let them go limp off the bottom of the mattress. He picked up each leg, one at a time, and let them fall limp until I felt no stiffness.
"But I am not done with you, my sweet," he said, with a devilish tinge in voice as he walked away. He came back and put two pillows under my ass cheeks. I could hear the chains being repositioned on the spindles at the foot of the bed.
My body began to squirm. My legs resisted his insistence of being lifted up in the air and reattached to the chains that were now above the mattress. I would have voluntarily opened my legs for him. I wanted them wrapped around his hips and back.
I heard the sound of his shirt falling to the floor, the unbuckling of his pants, and the pull of his zipper of his pants before they, too, hit the floor. I could feel the movement of him crawling over me and straddling me on each side of my shoulder before the tip of his cock landed on my lips.
"Tell me that you love my cock," he said, pressing it through my lips.
"I love your cock," I mumbled as best I could with my lips around his thin-skinned tip that was being stretched by his hard and rigid rod.
"Show me how you love it," he insisted by shoving it in deeper inside after every time he pulled away. The deeper he forced it in, the tighter my mouth held it in with my tongue trying to lap around it on all sides. The more of his cock I took in, the more I wanted it in the spot between my legs that was becoming wet again. I could feel my fluids dripping down my ass. I tried to mumble where I wanted him to be, but my requests were indecipherable. I'm sure he had to know. My legs were tensing inward, trying to preserve my orgasm for when he finally decided he needed something other than my mouth.
He finally pulled his cock out of my mouth and tore the blindfold off my eyes. His penetrating gaze never left my eyes as he backed up, walked around to the foot of the bed, and rubbed his wet cock against the slipperiness of my open lower lips.
"How bad do you want it?" he asked.
"Bad," I said, being forthright.
Still stroking on the tips of my lower lips, he asked, "How deep do you want it?"
"Deep," I said, louder.
Without warning, he plowed his cock all the way in and let it slip and slide in and out a few times until he asked, "How hard do you want it?"
"Hard!" I said, even louder.
"How hard?" he asked as he picked up the tempo.
"Harder!" I yelled.
"Harder?" he asked.
"Yes!" I screamed.
His groin made full contact with the skin between my legs. His balls flung against my ass with every thrust. Our eyes never unlocked until I just couldn't hold back on a stream of cum that coated his cock and a scream I'm sure that probably woke and startled anyone sleeping in half of the downtown area.
He slowed down as soon as I tried to catch my breath. He wasted little time in wanting to continue.
"Again?" he asked with his head cocked and an impish grin on his face.
"Yes," I said, vixen-like, tightening my insides around his eager cock again.
This time, his strokes were long and languid, like lying on a boat on waves that slowly rocked up and down and back and forth. As he picked up his rhythm, so did the tingling on my slick walls.
"Faster?" he asked.
"Yes," I said in the most encouraging way.
He didn't heed my request, or should I say, my command. Instead, he unhooked the chains from my ankle cuffs and brought my legs against his chest as he leaned in closer to me. Then he started plowing into me with a vengeance. I could tell from the look on his face and the by way he was starting to make guttural noises that he needed to let loose from deep inside. I lifted my hips as far up as I could to crash into his every almost pulverizing move. The farther he leaned into me, the more I came and the louder I screamed. I knew he was trying to hold back for as long as he could, but I just couldn't resist saying as loud as I could, "I want to feel you blast your hot stream deep inside of me!"
Michael shifted gears, turned up the power, and set himself into overdrive. We went at it as if we were scorching the sheets and setting ourselves on fire. I was leaking fluids all over the place and thoroughly soaked the pillow under my ass. If that wasn't enough for him, he pulled down the top of my corset and tweaked my nipples hard, making my climax feel as if it was spiraling out of control with no end. The tighter I clenched my pussy and the louder I screamed, I could feel his cock feel as if it was going to burst, I could see and feel how he wanted to let loose in earnest.
He finally let go, first with a blast and then with a trail of cum that continued to let his still hard cock cruise between my legs. The wrenched look on his face softened to a glow that cast over me. I could do this all night with my legs wrapped around his shoulder like the embrace I couldn't give him with my hands restrained and stretched above. Still, we were linked in a closeness we weren't quite ready to give up.
He asked me to bring my hands forward to unlock the bands. I pulled him in for a long and still embrace as he fell upon me, locked between my legs.
"That wasn't so barbaric, was it?" I asked.
He rolled over, laughed, gave me a warm, firm kiss, and said, "In every delightful way possible."